in the shape of a star
by mimiplaysgames
Summary: They have their home, and they have each other. What they need to build a new life is to find proper footing. But some things are still too difficult to talk about.
1. 1: cheers

**A/N:** _Shout out to Lorelei, who put in the time to research lisianthus, which are flowers that look similar to the ones found on Eraqus' wreath. _  
_Also to Lyssa for being my emotional support animal. _  
_I wouldn't have carried on without your support and your listening ear, so thank you for your patience and understanding. 333 _  
_And OF COURSE to Eli who was my beta for this. Your spouts of genius were needed to make this happen and I'm so grateful. _  
_Thank you._

* * *

Aqua knew (rationally) she was safe in her bedroom.

The lamp on her bedside table and the ceiling light were both on. Her closet was closed shut. A white sheet draped over the vanity mirror - so her reflection couldn't bother her. She may not be able to see the shadows under her furniture, but she did frequent checks under bed and dresser to make sure nothing was stirring. And after the hours ticked by she understood that there was, truly, nothing. Now she questioned whether she was relieved or disappointed.

By this point, her patience had sunk to her feet and there was no cure for the stillness.

Thankfully, she heard a soft tap on her window. Several more followed, raindrops trickling down her window panes. Judging by how sparse they were, it was misty outside.

If anyone had seen her, they'd notice how desperately she tore the window open, breathing the scent of a fresh mountain morning in the middle of the night. The fog was thin, but enough to blanket the castle and block the stars from view. Her arm reached out into the sky, catching droplets. They were so cold, they tickled as they splattered upon impact.

The Realm of Darkness did its best work in making her numb to all sensation, usually leaving just bare minimum to trick her into enduring for just a little longer, and yet taking it all away so that she wouldn't go crazy.

Feeling the mist was a welcome sign that for one, she was alive, and two, she was free. And she already knew this, too. They had all been back in the Land of Departure for weeks now. Yet she needed the reminder. The feel of the rain on her skin was so foreign now, it was almost new.

She decided it was a good excuse as any not to keep this to herself.

Her boys did her the favor every night of turning the lights on in the castle in the most common areas. Ventus would make laps to power them, Terra took the duty very late at night to turn them off once everyone else was asleep. The halls, the intersecting ones included, illuminated so brightly, the only shadow she could see was her own.

Voices trailed off from Ventus' room. Laughter, pleads. What sounded like jokes. His door was slightly ajar, and she peeked in.

It wasn't a surprise that Terra was shoving Ventus down into the pillow, using his face like a lever.

"Ven, have mercy. I'm tired." Terra plopped into a lounge chair, resting his foot at the edge of the bed.

Ventus had the decency not to spring back up, but he rolled over to lean closer, finding reasons to keep going. "But did you think about what I said? About Merlin?"

"Yes." There was no effort in hiding his amused annoyance.

"And?"

Terra didn't face her, but she felt his eyes rolling and his smile pulling. "I'll tell you in the morning."

"Oh, come on." He squirmed, begging Terra to stay when he stood up.

"You could make it easier for yourself-"

"I hate tea." It was usually the suggestion: drink herbal tea to calm the nerves.

Terra snorted. "Then count sheep." He was closer to the door, his voice louder.

"That sounds really boring."

"That's the point."

It was then that Ventus' face fell, knowing his night was cut short. Aqua stood back as she felt Terra approach, not wanting to see him flick the lights off. She heard a gentle, yet firm "good night, Ven" before his face made its way through the doorway.

A benign smile graced it. Terra always carried himself with a gentleness that betrayed how intimidating others thought of him. Even when he joked around. "Do you need to be tucked in, too?"

"A six-year-old me would've loved that." She pressed her ear to the door. Ventus rustled in his sheets, sighing. He hasn't improved much in getting rest, and they were out of options. "I wish I could cast Sleep on him."

"Master Aqua wants to give her apprentice a magic addiction." It earned him a swat on his chest. "He'll be fine. Hearing us talk will calm him down."

Because it told him they would still be around when he closed his eyes.

When they first came back, they were happy to stay up and talk the night away, not stopping until their bodies gave up. Soon after, when the lack of rest affected them too much, Terra and Aqua took turns staying by his side until he slept, just so he was sure he wasn't going to be left alone.

"Do you think maybe we should get him a companion?" she asked.

"Like a pet?" He eyed her, waiting for her response first before giving his input. Normally, deciding changes in the castle was up to Master Eraqus. They kept forgetting they were its keepers now.

"Maybe not." The Master usually refused to bring in an animal, and it felt like betraying his memory to suggest such a thing.

"He's strong. He just needs time." Terra's voice softened, steadfast.

That was always the assumption. Time was a special kind of magic that would heal them. That would make sleep come. That would turn them back into the Keyblade wielders they all wanted to be. But they were still waiting.

"He checks in on us in the middle of the night to make sure we're still here," she said.

Terra let out a long, exasperated sigh. His eyes said it all. _Seriously?_

She nodded. _Seriously._

"We'll figure it out," he assured her. "What about you?"

She crossed her arms. "I'm fine."

"Okay," he said with all the benefit of the doubt that he could give her and yet with the knowledge she was lying.

It must have been how she pursed her lips that gave her away. "It's nothing. I just… I can't sleep, either."

He chuckled breathily, pinching his tired eyes. "I appreciate that you don't beat around the bush. Come on, let's take care of you."

When they entered his room, his first order of business was to fling a random sheet that he didn't bother to fold over his mirror. Then he kicked a pile of clothes that were in the way into his bathroom, where the lights were off, and closed that door.

"My room is now darkness-proof," he teased.

A steaming pot of tea he brewed for himself waited for him on his desk, right alongside another heap of clothes, open books stacked on top of each other, several pens that he kept piling for every time he lost one, and deodorant. He poured into his mug and handed it to her.

"One of these days, I'll make you regret saying that." Apple, with a hefty sum of lavender and chamomile, and a small dash of mint; no sugar. She may be the better cook, but Terra always made the best teas.

"Please, you're too nice to me to try." He took his mug out of her hands and drank a huge gulp like he needed it just as much.

She swatted at him. He caught her wrist. Terra engulfed her hand in his while he kept the other stretched across her forearm in an effort to warm her up.

"Why are you so cold?"

She stopped herself from laughing, but it still escaped through her nose. It was the arm she let outside. "It's raining."

He understood. His large hands caressed the cold away, and he didn't say anything in return. She didn't have to explain herself either.

Twelve years too long with all feeling stolen from them gave them a perspective they only shared with each other. The smallest things imaginable – a bright color, the smell of coffee, the taste of toothpaste – was a new adventure that for anyone else was negligible.

Much like the feel of his calloused palms on her skin. It gave her goosebumps, and he lingered even when she wasn't cold anymore.

Aqua moved closer to slip an arm around his waist. Being enveloped in his warmth suddenly made it okay for her to breathe. The pressure on her back as he pulled her in, the weight of his head on hers – these were the smaller things they took for granted beforehand, when friendship made these gestures seem trivial. And they were still friends - maybe something more, but the sorts of conversations she'd have to start to get them there always made her wonder if it was too much too fast. If she was even ready for it.

They hadn't even started a routine for Keyblade training yet. They hadn't talked about what they were going to do with their lives, or whether to consider Terra a Master or how she was going to teach Ventus. Nothing was normal anymore, and maintaining the friendship that she missed so much was the closest thing.

She was grateful there were at least some things that could be done instead of saying anything. Like holding him. They could wait in between friendship and something else and enjoy it anyway.

In this ambiguity, they could pretend the nights weren't dark and nothing ever happened. And she hoped disillusion would be gentle when it throttled them back into reality.

"I'm waiting," he said. She felt his smile in her hair.

"For what?"

"For you to tell me what it is you need."

She scoffed, holding him tighter. If only her bed was this comfortable. "I want to sleep here." She pulled away from him, but not far enough so that she was still in his arms. "I couldn't ask for that, though. I can't let you turn the lights off."

Terra replied the only way Terra would – with an encouraging smirk. "I don't mind."

"No, really, it sucks to sleep with them on."

"I highly doubt my lamp will burn through my eye sockets." His smile didn't change but it was getting obnoxious and she realized she really hated to need.

"Terra-"

"Aqua." The way he said it warned her he was ready and willing to drag this for as long as she was. Then he softened. "I want you to stay."

He only let her go to lazily arrange his sheets before getting into the bed and making space for her. Aqua considered for a second if she could tolerate the darkness for his sake, but the nausea in her stomach wouldn't allow it.

"Aqua," he repeated, patting the mattress.

Raindrops patted on his window, but they were so soft they were quiet against the sound of his comforter wrapping around her. His warmth was better than all of the layered blankets she could pile. She buried her face in his shirt, focusing on the scent of sandalwood and using his pecs to keep her eyes away from the light.

He rubbed her back, and she lessened the tension in her shoulders. This wasn't the first time she slept on his bed. They used to slip into each other's rooms to finish conversations on their pillows when the Master barked at them to go to bed. Holding him this close was certainly a milestone.

It was probably the first time she relaxed today. She wasn't sure; she wasn't the best at keeping herself in check.

But she braced herself when his door opened.

And Ventus threw himself so hard onto the bed that Terra groaned when he buckled under the weight.

"Thought you could lose me so easily?" The grin on Ventus' face was impish.

She wanted to throw him out for interrupting, but she couldn't bring herself to reject him.

"Ven," Terra snapped, angrier than she was to have the moment disturbed. "I can't believe this."

"Your bed is the biggest for a sleepover." Ventus scooched over to Terra's other side, wiggling for room.

It disappointed her to feel Terra roll over to lie on his back, but he pulled her by the waist to keep her close. She rested her head on his shoulder, letting herself smile at Ventus who was making himself comfortable on Terra's bicep.

"Ven, you're always wanted," she said, knowing who would be the one to get annoyed.

"I know I am." Something about the way he said it told her that he probably knew what was going on between his best friends.

"Shut up and sleep." Terra poked at him, not caring to look where he was aiming.

Ventus snickered as he swatted away.

Terra grunted to all of his incessant requests for conversation.

No one bothered to ask why all the lights were on.

Aqua didn't remember the last word she heard.

She woke up alone.

The bed was cold in the areas she didn't occupy. She was carefully tucked in, and they had the courtesy to leave the lights on while they let her catch up on sleep, all of which faded under the sun shining through the window.

* * *

The second best thing Aqua looked forward to since leaving the Realm of Darkness was being able to eat again. Spices, burnt charcoal, savory flavors – all were perfectly good reasons to wake up every day. She even went out of her way to find recipes just to keep herself in the kitchen.

Today's dinner was special: red pork stew boiled with corn, left to simmer for several hours in a mixture made of chili peppers.

She rubbed her arms against the blue silk robe she was wearing as she wallowed in the aroma, the fabric like a soft cloud against her skin.

There was at least three more hours before it finished. Smelling it was so intoxicating, she didn't bother to react when she heard footsteps passing through the dining room, making their way to the stove stop. Terra found his side next to her, moaning as he inhaled the aroma.

"Every time I think none of this is real," he sighed, "food slaps me right back."

Aqua hummed in agreement. "It's the Master's favorite. I thought we could have this to commemorate him."

He smiled morosely. "That's a good idea. Are you making something sweet for him, too?"

"That's hard considering…" She gestured to him. Terra was never a fan of the dessert.

"Lemon sherbet's not bad." Typical Terra. Only tolerated fruits that were sour. "Don't add sugar, please."

His smile grew in sincerity, his mind caught in subjects that were more pleasant. He was well-rested today, his eyes calm as though he didn't have nightmares these past couple of days. If there hadn't been a Keyblade War, or a decade of possession, this was what Terra looked like on a normal day.

Maybe he would be the foundation they needed to keep grounded for a day like today.

She started to disrobe herself. Her boys were used to seeing her dressed this way, or sometimes in a simple shirt and trousers. Hair brushed messily, she was sure. It was the easiest to wear without a mirror.

But she made an effort this morning to dress more appropriately. Under her robe, she wore her usual uniform that represented her status as a student and Master of the academy where she grew up.

"Can you tell me if I look okay?" she asked, fiddling with her straps and checking to make sure her corset was still straight.

Terra first cleared his throat. Which was, also, typical. He was usually defiant when it came to prompts over her looks. Not because he thought it was petty, but because it flustered him. If only he was more direct about it.

He nodded in approval, though with a twist to his smile and a twitch to his left eyebrow.

"I saw that," she said. "Spill it, mister."

"You look like you dressed without a mirror." He spoke with compassion and patience.

They all knew she couldn't bring herself see her reflection, and yet pointing it out was uncomfortable. She messed with her straps again, blind to what she really needed to do, but going ahead with it anyway because it was easier than responding to him.

Terra approached her and adjusted her straps in silence, as if keeping quiet about it helped to hide the embarrassment. He straightened out her sleeves, careful not to squeeze her too much. He looked her over and pulled on one of her hip sashes, measuring them with his hands until he convinced himself they were even.

Standing back up, his gaze went over her head. With one hand on her chin – it was impressive how much he stayed warm - he brushed through her hair with the other. She had forgotten how he looked when he was focused. It wasn't as intense as it would be if they were sparring, but he always let himself get carried away with the same integrity of his furrowed brows as he moved strands that were out of place. When it was this sunny, his dark eyes looked bluer.

Usually, being caught staring at him like this would force her to find excuses to look elsewhere and pretend she was minding her own business. But this time it was comfortable. He became absent-minded in what he was doing and studied her eyes, too. He smiled.

A door closed, and it broke their contact. Terra whispered that she looked good now as Ventus made his way into the kitchen, carrying a large bouquet of wildflowers in one arm and a fistful of wire.

The pause before he spoke was too conspicuous, like he was about to ask what the hell they were doing.

"You guys aren't the only ones living in this castle," he reminded them. Terra shot him a look, but he was proud of what he said. "Is there going to be dessert, too?"

"Lemon sherbet," Aqua said.

He looked as though she just fed him trash and expected him to be okay with it. "You did that for Terra, didn't you? You're such an enabler."

He placed the flowers and the wire onto the island in the middle of the kitchen, and she was grateful to have something to change the subject. The flowers varied through gentle whites and purples, and were soft to the touch. Their fragrance was delicate and faint. They were completely unlike the ones in the Realm of Darkness, which would disappear the moment she approached them.

"They're beautiful," she said.

"They're called _lisianthus_," Ventus said. "I read in a book that they represent _appreciation_."

Terra pulled out a butcher's knife to shorten the stems. "They're perfect."

"Thanks." Ventus trailed off, averting his gaze between the wire he was curving and Aqua, who was twisting it around the flowers. What he was going to ask was obvious. "You sure about this?"

"We've already talked about it," was her answer.

Which was an understatement. They had gone in circles discussing it.

She fought for twelve years, and she was tired.

There was nothing in the castle that could harm her, even on the nights when she was terrified she'd be swallowed back to the Realm of Darkness.

There wasn't a point or a reason or a meaning to the fear, and the days she spent locked in her head were taken away from her forever. She wanted them back.

It wasn't necessary for her to rely on the Keyblade. She did summon it – once – on poor Ventus. He didn't mean to sneak up on her like that.

It also wasn't fair to Terra or Ventus, who deserved to memorialize their father figure, too. The longer she kept the Master's Defender, the longer she was stalling.

And she wanted to cook all of her favorite recipes. She was still re-discovering rooms in the castle she had forgotten about. She wanted to smell perfumes, wake up every morning to her friends' voices, remember what it was like when they were companions and nothing else. No fighting. No darkness.

At least until she was ready to carry the burden of the Keyblade again.

"We still haven't found your Keyblade," Ventus said.

That was another thing. She left Stormfall with Xehanort, and she was in no hurry to follow his trail. Especially with Terra. It was too soon to replay the nightmare that caused all of this to begin with. For once it would be good to build a life where Xehanort had no existence or relevance.

"I don't really need it." She tried to sound confident.

"But what if something happens?"

Terra placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Nothing is going to happen, the castle is safe." It didn't prove to be entirely convincing, and before he was interrupted, he continued, "she has us."

It was valiant of Terra to support her, but he did so out of obligation. He had already voiced his own concerns, and was the one most determined to find Stormfall. Because he owed it to her, he had said.

She'd rather he support her by staying safe at home, not thinking about or doing anything related to Xehanort.

What she hated the most, though, was seeing Ventus worry this much. She ran her palm through his hair, offering a lazy smile. "It would be in your best interest if you remember that I can throw a mean kick."

He fiddled with the wire, carefully choosing which flower he was going to pick at next. When the both of them pressured him, he eventually gave in without much leverage of his own. So he joined them on making the wreath.

* * *

The sunset was both welcoming and discomforting, as though it was preparing to sleep alongside the Keyblade she was letting go of. In an imaginary world, Eraqus rode it far away, giving them one last gesture of good will. But at least the sun would come back home.

They chose a spot close by the entrance to the castle, on a cliff side where it opened to the mountain ranges beyond. Eraqus was usually the first one to greet each of them, and while they were trained to wake up fresh when the sun rose, they never understood the secret behind his love for mornings. Here, he would be the first to welcome them back. It would also make it easy for them to say hello every time they'd have to leave.

The Defender stood in her hands, and she hesitated. Twelve years was a lot to just leave on the ground.

"Does anyone remember the words?" she asked. Maybe if they treated it like a proper funeral, it would make the closure more real, and she'd be willing to unwind her fingers.

Ventus kept a hard gaze at the wreath he was holding, which was thick and vibrant. A proper crown for someone who deserved to wear it.

Terra cleared his throat, and pursed his lips as he drifted away in thought. He let his mouth hang before he began:

"_He awoke the day he was gifted.  
The kingdom shone brighter  
Under his servitude,  
So long as his heart never faltered.  
On this day, his star expired.  
When the sky goes dark,  
He returns. To light,  
To rest_."

It was a pleasant delivery, a nail on the coffin. But being ready to start a new life didn't make it any easier to tear from an old one. Aqua gripped the hilt harder, bringing it to her forehead.

"I wouldn't have survived without you," she said to it, and fought the tears.

Fruitlessly. She snapped back to reality when Terra rubbed her shoulder.

"He was so proud of you," he said softly, certain it was the truth. And of course it would be, considering he spent the last decade protecting his heart and that of the Master. Whenever he talked about it, he always did so calmly, like he found solace with the Master's heart in the middle of his despair.

She smiled and the remaining tears fell to her lips since they had nowhere else to go. She wanted to say that the Master was proud of him too, but didn't want to come across as assuming. If there was a sense of fulfillment, Terra would already know.

With one final grip, like a good-bye hug, she struck the ground with the tip of the Keyblade, pushing downward to give it just enough security. It still took her time to unwrap her fingers, but with each stroke of movement, she felt the energy disappear. It became a part of her as much as she had given herself to it, blending their energies together in a union. A Keyblade was an extension of their hearts, so there was no denying this one took from hers.

And once she finally let go, that piece of her was gone with the rest. She was still Master Aqua without it and without the Realm of Darkness. But she expected it to make her feel better.

Ventus settled the wreath on the hilt with the gentleness of someone holding a priceless treasure. "I wish we could give him something more meaningful."

"Ven, the wreath is wonderful," she said, sniffling. "What more do you want?"

"I don't know. I just want him to stay."

That was the funny thing about loss. It crept on them even when they understood well enough that it would stay with them forever. For Terra, when he accidentally served an extra plate of breakfast. For Aqua, when she had a question. For Ventus, when he wasn't ordered to stay still.

"You don't think he's still connected to us?" Terra said. "I mean, you can't walk an inch of the castle without remembering him."

It was genius, and he didn't know it.

"Our Wayfinders," she said, pulling hers from her hip. A blue as deep as her will and faith.

"Give them to the Master?" Terra pulled his out of his pocket, dusting it off even though he held it every day. A fiery orange that paled in comparison to his bravery. "They did bring us back together. I actually like to think of them as a lucky charm."

Ventus' was a vibrant green that mixed his youth and reliability. "Aqua was the glue that held us."

"You make that sound so sappy," she said.

"Because it is."

"… Should I have made one for the Master?"

"Well," Terra said, "I think our Wayfinders were there when we needed them. When we were breaking apart."

"Maybe that's the point." Ventus held his out with both hands like he was honoring it. "We won't break apart again, even when we're separated. So we don't really need them anymore."

It was a beautiful thought, and her eyes were wet again. Though she was the only one near tears; she saw her boys slowly lift their spirits like they were finally making strides from all the tears they had shed when they first arrived to an empty castle.

"They could light our way home," Ventus said.

"The Master was home," she said. Perfect.

"And they'll help us find him again," Terra said, "when it's our turn."

When it was their turn, and they needed a guide to wherever they would head next.

That was the agreement. Hold the Wayfinders over their hearts first, before laying them on the wreath. It made the memorial look… complete. Stars to guide them home. Perhaps this was how closure was supposed to feel - released. Finished. Like the end of a good story.

"I think you're better at being strict," Terra said to her as they walked back to the castle.

"Where is this coming from?"

"Someone's gotta lay down the law when we have students of our own. The castle also needs to survive… but I don't think I'm cut out for that kind of job." He crossed his arms and made himself look taller, imitating the Master. "_Push the darkness down – give it no quarter in your heart_."

His voice was shaky and his intimidation was false, as though he was terrified of scaring the imaginary person he was talking to.

She snorted. "It sounds so weird coming out of your mouth."

"But you can totally pull it off."

Their laughter was contagious, much like how the Master would have preferred it. It was comforting to the point that it took them a while to notice that Ventus wasn't even near them.

In fact, he staggered far behind, talking to himself. No, he was talking to _something_.

It wasn't until Terra called him over that she saw what he was carrying. A large striped, gray cat, which was completely rare to see walking around in the mountains.

And it wore a cape and a pink coin purse around its neck… not the sight she was expecting right after a funeral.

"You're picking up strays, now?" Terra rested his hands on his hips.

"My name is Chirithy," the cat said. "It's nice to meet you."

She didn't know what was more shocking. Though if she had to decide, it would be the fact that its voice was so high-pitched, it squeaked like two rubbery gears. And that face – so _round_ and unassuming.

"It talks?" At this point, Terra dropped his hands.

"Isn't he great?" Ventus nuzzled the animal(?) and it reciprocated, bouncing in his arms like it had just been reunited with its master after a long day apart. It even included a rolling giggle, like it was being tickled.

"Yeah, but what is he?"

"I am Chirithy," was the answer.

She had no idea what a Chirithy was, and from the look Terra gave her, he was hoping for an answer, too.

"Chirithy…" she said out loud, unsure where to start. "Ven, you're not curious why it talks or where it comes from?"

He shrugged. "He's cool. I like him."

"I was displaced from the war," Chirithy said.

The fact that it had the sentience to even understand there was a recent Keyblade War was astounding. Did its world disappear? Did that mean that they had to help it?

"Chur… Chirrra…" Terra started.

It was exactly like when they met Ventus for the first time. It took a while for Terra to pronounce the name, and until he got it down, 'Ven' was the nickname given. And it stuck anyway.

"He's really cute," Aqua said, noticing just how attached Ventus was. It took two minutes and he was already in love. She wondered how futile it was to discuss whether keeping an animal in such a sacred building would be a bad idea.

Terra sighed, giving up. He pet the cat on the head, deciding that the name 'Cheers' was good enough.

"It's not that hard to pronounce," Ventus said.

"It's okay. I know he's the smart one," Chirithy said. Dryly.

Aqua didn't quite know whether to interpret that as sarcasm, or to question how Chirithy could come to such a quick conclusion over a stranger. Or why a cat-thing was willing to judge so harshly.

Ventus' smile widened, his excitement nearly blinding her. "Can we keep him?"

"Ven, we don't know what it really is," she said. Honestly, it was too adorable _not_ to take it home, but she reminded herself that she had responsibilities, and safety was first on the list.

"I am Chirithy."

She scoffed in response. It was if it wanted her to understand it yet it refused to offer an explanation. It didn't give her the impression that it did so naively, either.

Terra didn't have good advice. "You're the Master. Lay down the law."

The law wasn't exactly built to withstand Ventus, though. And he didn't have to ask. Or even beg with his eyes. It was just his elation: how comfortable he felt around the creature, like he was already planning what they'd be doing together the next few days.

And she couldn't bring herself to break his heart. "Okay fine. We'll keep him."

* * *

Ventus decided the first order of business was to give Chirithy a quick tour of the castle while she finished dinner. It was good timing anyway, since the sun was nearly gone.

She heard him say, "we have to turn all the lights on. It's not good for Aqua to walk around in the dark" before his voice trailed off as he ran down the hallway with the creature floating closely behind him.

Terra sat at the bar that formed a barrier between the kitchen and the dining room as she stirred the pot. Several minutes were left before it was finished.

"Have you ever heard of a Chirithy before?" she asked, though she kept her eyes on the stovetop.

"Nope."

"Not in any book?" She whipped around, flabbergasted. She wished she wasn't the only one.

"No. He's pretty tight-lipped, isn't he?"

She walked up to the bar, tracing the random patterns on the marble. "Yeah, I don't think we'll get a straight answer out of him. He's also strangely attached to Ven."

He rolled his lips inward, containing a laugh. "Are you regretting letting him in?"

She slowly shook her head. "I didn't sense a trace of darkness in him."

Which could mean nothing, or it could mean everything. Something made her feel off, even though she really couldn't see the threat.

"I agree." Terra interlaced his fingers, leaning forward. "I also think Ven's heart is in the right place. And it just seemed like… Ven also has attachments."

That was probably it. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Do you think he could be from Ven's home world?"

While Terra and Aqua were able to share stories of where they came from, Ventus was usually left out of such conversations. He simply had no recollection of his origins, and was never able to recover.

Terra brought his hand to his chin. "It's likely." She could hear the excitement in his soft voice. And it made sense. She was excited to learn about this, too.

Ventus' voice slowly made its way back to the dining room, and she counted her blessings that they didn't keep talking about this within earshot.

When he threw the doors open, she immediately asked so as to not look suspicious, "back already?"

Chirithy made its way onto the bar. It was friendly enough, and would be friendlier if it wasn't so formal. "We traversed only this floor. It's quite a homely place. Ventus is scatterbrained but he makes a good tour guide."

'Homely' wasn't a word she would use to describe the castle. While it was home to her, it was lavish enough to intimidate any passerby.

The symbol on its coin purse resembled the shape of a five-pointed star. It was increasingly getting common to find that certain worlds hold this sign dearly, much like she had learned to perceive it.

"Does your symbol mean anything to you?" she asked.

"Light." Its answers were always short and straight-forward, taking away any invitation to let her pry more.

"What do you carry in your pouch, Cheers?" Terra asked, his elbow leaning on the bar.

"Your nightmares."

He laughed. "At least you're entertaining."

Ventus came in between them, his fingers on the edge of the marble, his eyes full of determination like he had a goal to finish as fast as possible. "Terra, you forgot to replace the light bulbs in the entertainment room."

"Which one?"

"The billiards room. The chandelier won't turn on."

Knowing Terra, the exact retort crossing through his mind would be something close to _Yeah_, _Aqua truly needs that room so she could take Cheers drinking_, since that was usually where the Master would gather his guests.

But Ventus was so resolute about this, like Aqua would be in danger without these new lightbulbs, that Terra didn't object.

"Yes, sir." He wasn't enthusiastic, and let his groan say so. He dragged his feet, the other two following close behind him.

To be a Keyblade wielder and having the most pressing concern be a burnt fixture. It had to be a sign that things were getting better, since their conversations lately turned into monotony like this instead of what truly haunted them. Admittedly it was sweet that Ventus worried over her so much, though it was ironic how the tables had turned since she used to be the one babying him.

Her attention to the food was only interrupted when she heard a thunderous crash. A rip, like the crumbling of earth. Shattered glass; by the loads of them considering how heavy it sounded.

"Is everything okay?" she called.

Silence.

"Guys?" She stepped down the hall, calling out again in case they didn't hear her.

The hallway itself was bright, showing off the elegance of the castle. But it was so quiet, she could hear the filament above her buzzing.

The only response she received was Chirithy, who appeared around the corner. At first, it didn't say anything, but she noticed its dazed walk.

"What's going on?" Her pace quickened.

"He dreams," Chirithy said, more to itself than anyone else. It was scared. "It's hard to come back."

She sprinted down the hallway, with just one thought in her mind. _Terra_.

The billiards room. The only light entering it was from the hallway, while the sunlight that should have reached its windows dimmed into dusk.

The chandelier was sprawled all over the ground, the glint of its glass sprinkling across the carpet and all over the pool table. There should be a bar stacked with wine bottles on the other side of the room, but she couldn't make it out in the darkness. Ventus was nowhere to be found.

There was Terra, shivering and mumbling by a table on the far wall, the step ladder collapsed over. He kept grabbing at his face as if to pull something off it, like it kept him from speaking. His armored arm is tense and forced onto the table, and even through this poor lighting, she saw dense shadows dancing around him.

Darkness, emanating from his arm.

She was about to step inside. She needed to. She could see him clearly. But there wasn't a way for her to tell if a portal to the Realm of Darkness opened here, or if there was something waiting to strike.

Her first instinct was to summon her Keyblade but it wasn't with her anymore.

Not that she should care about that when Terra was in trouble.

"What happened?" she heard Ventus say. He approached her, a cart full of new lightbulbs in his arms.

"The- the stew." She waved her arm at him, shooing him into action. "Get the stew. Now."

He followed her orders, taking the box with him as he raced back to the kitchen. Leaving her completely alone, weaponless.

Terra whimpered. Her instinct propelled her forward, throwing herself into the dark to answer him. She remembered she could still fight without her Keyblade, despite how dangerous it was to be so naked in defense. She looked for signs of aggression, ready to attack first.

Which made her sick. The darkness made her sick and now she wouldn't be able to sleep for a while. It was so unfair how she was here, thinking about having to protect herself from Terra. Of all people. Again.

"It was supposed to be an easy fix," he mumbled. It didn't seem like he was saying it to her, but to whatever presence he felt approach him. It was almost like begging, like he was desperate to be forgiven for the mishap. "It was supposed to be an easy fix."

"Terra, you're home," she said. She had one hand out to comfort him, and one hand behind her ready to strike. "You're okay."

"… fix."

"Terra, tell me what you need."

He inhaled sharply, suddenly aware who was talking to him. He voiced more clearly, "can I touch you?"

It would leave her completely exposed to attack. She knew it. She almost expected to see a pair of yellow eyes stare back at her. But she banked on Ventus being her back-up, so she didn't care.

She fully embraced him, her arms around his neck. He held her by the waist, his face buried in the crux of her neck as he gasped and steadied his breathing. His bad arm continued to wedge into the surface of the table, his knuckles bracing hard as if he was afraid of his own limb.

Aqua didn't know how what to say, or how she could possibly shelter such a large man in her dainty arms from whatever scared him. She hated how often they had to pick themselves up over and over again – when would they be allowed to live without so much venom plaguing them?

His breathing slowed, his muscles relaxed some. "I'm sorry," he whispered. His voice still shook.

She rubbed his back. "It was just a stupid lightbulb."

The shadow he casted from the hallway light was large and looming. It stretched, like it morphed Terra's body into a muscular beast. Almost as big as the monster that once stalked Xehanort's Heartless.

No, she shouldn't think about that. Once Terra was fine, they would leave this awful room.

Almost as if to frighten her more, she caught sight of two round, crimson eyes watching her. Up against the wall behind him. Unwavering, bright, hateful.

Until she blinked and they were gone.

She didn't need to hallucinate right now, she needed to get Terra out of here.

Ventus walked in, the smell of chili peppers filling the room as he carried the pot in between his mittens.

The atmosphere changed so much when he arrived, as if the existence of a humble home-cooked meal dispelled the existence of any demon. Unless they were hungry for a woman's hard work.

Terra sighed. "That smells so good."

The pot found a place on the table, which compelled Terra to move his arm away.

Though he kept it by his side, as if touching anything with it would bring it harm.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, acting more like his old self. Though exhausted.

He still held her close by the waist, his grip a little harder as though he was now the one shielding her from whatever it was that lurked in this room.

"Um…"

He didn't need to hear any more from her. He guided her out of the room, back to where it was bright and she could see the gold inlays that swept the castle walls. Chirity stood here, calmly like it was simply waiting for all of them to gather.

Terra immediately closed the door once Ventus walked out, leaving the darkness to fend for itself for tonight.

It was dark only because it was nighttime and the lights weren't working. Not because there was anything really there.

"We're safe now," Terra said.

They weren't. Or they were, she couldn't make up her mind. Aqua stepped forward to trace the doorway with her a wave of her hand, casting a powerful Reflega to seal the way out. If something was in there, it would face pain.

No one commented on her actions.

"What just happened?" Ventus asked.

Terra groaned, his head hanging in shame. Moments like these usually came when he improved the most. "I slipped and pulled on the chandelier. I kind of freaked... It was really just a stupid accident, I'm sorry."

So there was nothing else inside that room.

"There was no darkness?" she asked. She shouldn't, but she needed the confirmation.

"Just mine." His voice hitched. He was still able to channel darkness, his body forced to keep a connection to it from years of being used as a vessel for it. It was something he hated talking about, and he never let either of them learn what this last decade was like for him.

He held her by the shoulder with his good arm. "Let Ven and me worry about the darkness, okay?"

Ventus chortled, jabbing the pot of stew to make a point. "You'll only get to deal with the darkness when I say so."

Her boys laughed, which was a sound she preferred to hear. Although a remark like that was something only Ventus could say. If she had told Terra the same thing, she would only make it sound hurtful.

Maybe she really was the only one to think this was a crisis.

"I'm being ridiculous," she said.

"Are you talking about the Reflega?" Terra shook his head in disagreement. "You do what you need to do."

"What kind of Keyblade Master is afraid of the dark?" she retorted.

"Ours was."

It sounded like the bounce of a metal needle against the vibration of ceramic. While he was soft, the statement was pointedly loud.

"That doesn't bode well for me, does it?"

"No one has the right to expect anything from you, not after what you've been through." His eyes were stern, but his voice tender. "You deserve to give yourself a break."

She wanted to spit about how humiliating the hesitation was. If she was in her right mind, she would have been there for him in less than a heartbeat.

"Darkness is strongest when we're isolated and uncertain," Chirithy said. "It gathers numbers among the blinded."

Shock number whatever for the night: Chirithy enjoyed lecturing, apparently over the nature of light and darkness. Which begged the question as to why it even knew such information, and she vowed to find a book that would explain.

But this didn't seem to make Ventus suspicious, either. "Hmm, that's right. Light is strongest when we're safe and together."

"Yes."

"That means she should hold Terra's hand."

The cat's eyes narrowed, craning its neck to look up. "Why would that-"

"She's happier that way," he said matter-of-factly, and she heard Terra let out the smallest snigger when he failed to keep it to himself.

Ventus didn't have the decency to notice how potent he made the awkwardness. Terra and Aqua avoided looking at each other straight in the eye, and she thought about giving him the most sour piece of the sherbet. But he (eventually) cleared his throat, nudging his head back in the direction of the kitchen.

"Well, now that the crisis is averted," he said, "I'm starving. Come on, Chirithy. You're our guest so you get first dibs."

Then he left them alone to deal with the consequences of his statement, as if his exit wasn't cringe-worthy either. He even quickened his pace to get out of there sooner.

"Is that true?" Terra asked when the sound of footsteps disappeared.

It was a conversation she wasn't ready to have, but it was a welcome distraction. If she braved the darkness, then surely she could show some spine right now. "Yeah. It is."

His grin grew a little wider, and he took the time to process the information. There wasn't a way to be sneaky about it, and saying anything might have made it all the more intimidating.

What was left to do, simply, was to accept that his fingers found the spaces in between hers.

It was pleasantly quiet as they walked down the hall, where they weren't forced to talk about what they were doing. What a difference it made when she allowed him to simply sweep her away from what harmed her instead of doing it on her own – when she could actually let her mind wander. When she could let herself take his elbow with her other hand and there was nothing that either of them had to say to make this moment any better.

But she knew Terra well. What others would have mistaken for tepidness, shyness, a cool nature, or a quiet disposition, she knew exactly what a smug expression on his face would look like as the gears in his mind went to work.

"Don't start," she warned.

"Not to worry, Master Aqua, I'll get you to the kitchen safely," he said, inflecting his voice ever so slightly as though he was helping the elderly cross the street.

Of course. "When I get my Keyblade back-"

"You'll try and kick my ass," he offered.

"You mean I will."

"I mean you will attempt." He glanced at her. "Come on, you'd only feel bad afterward if you did."

"Depending on my mood."

"I'll be prepared." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and giggled like they were still teenagers waiting to grow up.

And she joined, leaning her head on his shoulder hoping that one day they'd do more than just touch. Grateful his eyes were still blue. That he was still home, on a night that didn't collapse.

Laughter was its own special light, brighter than the stars that shone down on the castle, or the electric lamps that led them to a dinner waiting to be consumed. It had the power to make her forget, which was a quirk close to nothing else could boast. Except maybe what they held in between their hands.

She laughed, leaving the nightmare alone by the pool table.


	2. 2: anti

**A/N: Ohhh I really didn't mean to take this long to update this one. **  
**But I'm so ecstatic to finally get out a new chapter, it took me a good month to write it and for now, I'm proud of it. I hope you like it! **  
**So many, many, countless thanks to Eli for beta-reading this piece and making sure characterizations and other deeper layers are a good fit, **  
**this work would not have survived without your help, love, and support. 3**

* * *

When she brushed her hair, she did so alone - without the mirror, without anyone watching. After the bristles glided easily and she felt finished, she'd pat it flat, smoothing out the ends just in case she missed a knot or two. If there were any loose strands, they'd be damned.

It was a still night, the curtains drawn with no wind to disturb the glass, and no whispers behind an unseen reflection of her mirror, which to this hour stood pathetically underneath a discarded bedsheet. No sound disturbed her, and it would have been peaceful silence if she didn't have thoughts - until there was a soft knock on her door.

Terra opened it for himself. "Hey."

And Aqua couldn't help but smile. "Hey."

Interrupting them was a loud bang, like a lamp falling over, tussling some furniture. She tensed up, expecting something to endanger the safety of her room, maybe even another episode - the last one with Terra was something she still could not put to rest.

Aqua was ready, a list of spells reciting in her mind. But Terra's quiet chuckle gave her the indication that everything was as normal as it should be.

There was laughter down the hall, a squeak and a giggle. Ventus was fine.

"It sounds like those two are going to keep me up all night," Terra said with an exasperated smirk. "You know, I'm glad that Cheers came to us."

Part of her agreed - Chirithy's arrival meant that Ventus slept happily, soundly.

And through the entire night, bless that cat-thing.

But part of her didn't want new adventures. Something was still... weird, and she wished to have her family together without any fear, without wondering if she had to prepare for any surprises.

She kept those thoughts to herself.

"They'll be asleep before you know it," she said. Call it denial but it was better to count their blessings and hope there were more where they came from.

"How are you doing tonight?" He stayed at her doorframe, head peeking in like he was testing the waters, to see if he was trespassing - not that he ever could, he was the one thing that brightened up the night.

It was slick of him to ask that question when so many others would have been more accurate to how he really felt: _Are you okay? Has anything scared you? Do you need me to stay with you? Would you like to come to my room? _

Maybe even: _I need you, too._

Aqua nodded slowly in response, rolling her words in her mouth before she spoke as much as she fiddled with the brush in her hands.

Yes, of course she wanted him to stay. There was no denying that she wanted to be near him.

But no. She had rejected his offer for three nights now and she hated it. But still, no.

There were things that she didn't want him to see. Not just yet, anyway.

"I'm doing okay," she said. "I'm thinking of staying here for tonight."

She should not make herself into a burden when she was already compromised: a Keyblade Master without a Keyblade. It wasn't Aqua's style to _need _this much, so the best defense for now was to steel herself and fight her battles like nothing had changed.

Except losing a Keyblade was a huge deal so she had to get creative in order to look like she still had her life together.

Needless to say, her boys weren't very impressed with how she was doing so far.

"Okay." His voice was respectful but his eyes… disappointed. He rubbed her doorframe, like he was comforting it, and she might as well tell him it was obvious the gesture was really for himself. "If you need anything-"

"I know where to find you." She smiled. Who knew if it was convincing.

"Yeah." He patted the doorframe once, and forced a smile. "Good night."

"Night."

He closed the door behind him, and she waited for the sounds.

Footsteps faded away, first over to the left, with muffled voices to check if everyone else was tucked in and ready for sleep. Then to the right where a door opened, and before it closed, the sound of a loud flick of the light switch. Light that crept under her door was now darkness.

She threw herself out of her chair, to lock her door before she cast Reflect on it, protecting her from whatever stood waiting outside in the hallway.

It wasn't enough of course. She cast Reflect on her mirror, the bedsheet covering it just as necessary.

She cast Reflect on her closet.

To her bathroom door.

The window.

This was her new ritual, and she dared darkness to be brave enough and break through. She sat on her bed with her legs crossed, like she was ready to calm down now but there was no telling her heart that it could finally breathe easy.

The light from her ceiling glared on, suffocating the glow coming from her bedside lamp. They were brand new light bulbs, too fresh to make any physical sound yet they were still louder than sirens and they kept her up every night because they did their job too well.

Aqua wanted to be in Terra's arms; she needed to hear his heartbeat, needed to see that his eyes were still blue.

_Needed_. It was time to do away with that.

Eventually, her body would do what was natural when it was exhausted enough, getting her to pull the covers over, getting her under the drone of sleep.

When her body eventually did its job, she saw what her mind dared her to see: a black horned monster, its blue veins pumping with energy, its snarled teeth trapped behind bandages, hovering right at her door without an introduction.

She made sure to lock it; she swore she did and here it was anyway.

The monster turned her lights off, and most of it disappeared in the shadows, its yellow eyes still hovering in space.

Aqua could not move her body, and she willed the monster away - there was still strength there, all she had to do was get up, it shouldn't be this hard. She fought it before without a Keyblade and could do it again.

It floated over to her bedside and there it was, face to face with her, heavy breaths counting down to when it would start.

At first, it almost reached to touch her, but instead its fingers grasped the fabric of the bandages crossing over its mouth, struggling at first to take them off but finally succeeding. It said her name.

_Aqua…_

All the while a cat with red eyes watched on by her windowsill.

* * *

The only cure for a bad night's sleep was tea in the morning. Despite her pounding headache, Aqua prepared herself with three open books for a hard study on how to brew the best.

She was not the resident tea expert - that title went to Terra - but she liked to play an aggressive game and wanted to impress. The books were spread on the countertop: one for tea with fruits, one for spices, and one all about the philosophy of brewing different types, at what temperatures, and for how long.

Aqua chose the hard route by creating a new brew instead of following a simple recipe - last night had defeated her, and she really needed to win at something that didn't make her feel like she was a lost cause.

She opened the cupboard for two mugs to find that she only need one.

The Master's mug, this enormous ceramic perfection with a painted, curled mustache near the rim. He loved drinking out of this, the joke being that if he ever wanted to change his style, he could always do so in the mornings with a side of coffee. The _size_ of it made it more like a chalice than anything else that was proper for a kitchen.

It was one of the things neither of them could bring themselves to throw away.

Terra claimed it for himself now, toying with the idea of growing out facial hair but never following through with it.

In the Master's chalice, she mixed her concoction: ginger tea with turmeric and orange slices.

She checked each of her books one more time, making sure that her equations were correct, that she brewed something worthwhile. She took one little sip - meh, it was decent enough, and now she was nervous that he wouldn't like it.

Voices floated near the dining room - it was curtain time.

Ventus spoke first, his tone anxious, like he was desperate and needy. "I don't know, man… You know Aqua. She's going to kill you."

"Ven," Terra replied to shut him up. "What else do you-"

A sigh.

"Everything's going to be fine, buddy," Terra said, and she was certain what followed was a rustle through Ven's hair.

Years later and it was still second nature for all of them not to take Ventus seriously. She felt bad for him.

The door opened and only Terra came through, making her wonder if Ventus was now sulking - if he was, he didn't turn to either of them anymore. He turned to Chirithy.

"It smells great in here," he said as though he didn't suspect that Aqua heard anything.

Which put her in an awkward situation - ask for what they were talking about, or keep it a pleasant morning?

...Was she really that traumatized that she had to be worried over what Terra was up to? She should (and would) trust him.

"Look what I did," she said instead, displaying the chalice proudly with a half-full teapot over the bar that stood in between them. She didn't say anything else, giving him the opening to volunteer the information himself.

He did not. He smirked. "Let's see how well you performed, Master."

The rim of this quirky mug approached his lips, a huge caricatured mustache now donned across his face right under his nose, like a portrait of an era from long ago. It almost made him look like Master Eraqus; she really should take a picture.

His sip was purposefully loud, the smack of his tongue vibrant as he tested the flavor, a gentle swallow when he finished - he did all this without ever breaking his gaze on her, and Aqua found that she quite enjoyed the way he looked at her, and she definitely noticed how comfortable it was to stare back.

"I'm actually quite impressed," he said as he set the mug down.

"Seriously?" She didn't think it was anything special, so she grabbed it and brought it to her own lips.

Hm, oddly it tasted better. Maybe she always thought his tea tasted amazing because he always shared it with her.

His chuckles interrupted her drink. "Facial hair looks good on you," he said.

"You're not as clever as you think you are."

"I am." He took the mug back. "You're stealing from me."

Laughing almost felt normal, like they hadn't lost anything and they didn't have to be afraid of losing again.

He stopped himself from drinking more to stare in awe of her smile.

Then he shrugged it off and darted his eyes somewhere else - to the floor - as he sipped, sinking into a thought that took some of his joy away.

"What is it?" she asked.

If anything, she was grateful he didn't try to lie about it. "I've decided what I want to do."

This day was always going to come, she knew it. The easiest, most joyful days were always the first to slip away and she told herself the entire time she anticipated it that it didn't mean they would be separated. She had to believe that.

"Let's hear it."

He brought himself to look at her in the eyes. "I want to train with Riku, take as much time as I can with him before he leaves."

It made sense. It also meant that he chose Riku as his Master.

"He'll be good for you," she said.

Something about the way he avoided her gaze told her that there was more to it. "Aqua, I'll be meeting him in Destiny Islands."

"You-" She inhaled. "You won't be training in the castle?"

"No."

All she was able to will out of herself was to stare at her fingers, reminding herself that every student of the Keyblade deserved privacy for their personal growth and it wasn't anything personal.

"It's not anything to do with you. It's just…" Tears formed behind his eyes and he blinked them away. "Every morning, every night, every moment no matter how distracted I am or how detailed I plan a better future, all I have left to come to is myself."

"Terra..." Ever since they came home, he had a nasty self-hating habit and most of the time she wasn't confident that her words would comfort him.

How many times would she tell him that she was proud of him? How many times did he say that she had no reason to?

And what was the point for all this self-flagellation when she understood him more than he realized?

She nearly told him - _nearly_ \- but there was something as thick as tar that glued her mouth together. She didn't tell him that she failed, too, that darkness took her, that she got angry, that she attacked her friends and allies.

If she said anything he would ask _why_ it happened, and there wasn't a single word in the dictionary to soften the blow.

"Listen," he said, bringing his hand close to hers, stopping himself from asking her to take it. "Either way, I want _you_ to be the one to test for my Mark of Mastery."

Her eyes met his. "You sure?"

"Yes. I want - no, I need you to see me at my best. Please."

She understood the words he _wasn't_ saying: he needed to reassure himself that they were equals. In her eyes, they still were.

"I will."

Her normal Terra was back - eyes filled with determination, with hope, with the vow that he would succeed. "There's one more thing."

She scoffed. "Okay."

"I'm also going to be training with Merlin."

"Oh."

This she didn't expect: him training with a stranger when magic was her expertise. She almost asked him not to go, almost spit a long resumé of how skilled she was and surely she could teach him if he was interested.

Which meant that Terra would spend more time away from home, too. "What would you be working on?"

"Oh you know," he said, trying so hard to make her feel better. "Taming these powers some asshole who cheated death left behind for me to deal with."

He failed.

Aqua supposed that in spite of how long they had existed apart, there were still journeys they had to take alone. Maybe sooner in the future, they would all be inseparable again.

Or was that too unrealistic to believe? Since when did her Mark of Mastery promise that adulthood would be this hard?

His fingers brushed hers, hesitant at first then relieved when she reciprocated, giving her a grip so tight as if he was the one who kept her standing.

"I promise," he said, lowering his voice to a soft whisper, "I'll be home every day before the sun sets."

Terra smiled once more, stroking her thumb with his, searching her eyes, her lips, her forehead. "Just one more thing." He brushed through some straggling strands, matching one side of her head with the other, making sure she was well-kept.

She might as well melt into mush and keep him here for at least one more day, at least to prepare a proper good-bye, but Aqua stood on her own two feet so he could start his soul-searching guilt-free. "Keep your Gummiphone on you."

"You're such a mom." He gave her a gentle squeeze before letting go, the ghost of his warmth still on her. She cupped it with her other hand as if to keep it. It didn't work.

At least he humored her by showing his Gummiphone tucked in his pocket, before handing his mug over. "I'll allow you to have the rest," he said.

His footsteps echoed in the entrance hall before they were muffled by the outside, and shushed by the time he was too far away. He bid his farewell to Eraqus' memorial first before summoning his armor, the last sound he made a burst of fire as his glider took him to the sky.

The tea was still hot, but it had lost most of its flavor.

* * *

It would have been difficult for anyone else to find Ventus in such a large castle - however Aqua knew him well. If he wasn't playing around in the training grounds, hiding in the highest loft of the library, or pigging out in the kitchen, then he was in his room.

How right she was, hearing voices coming from behind his door.

She knocked. "Ven?"

"Just a sec."

He rummaged, and she heard the snap of a bedsheet. Timing herself to the movement of the fabric, she walked in, just in time for him to double check that his mirror was completely covered.

"Thanks," she said, wishing her boys didn't have to be so careful around her.

Chirithy stood on his table next to a carefully placed stack of books so worn out that the leather started to peel. It wiggled its ears and groomed its paws, and it was endearing enough that it almost looked like a house cat.

For as much as Ventus was the eternal child in their trio, he was way more tidy than Terra. Souvenirs from the Master's adventures littered his walls and bookshelves, all neatly arranged so that they each shined without being shadowed by another. Aqua wondered if Ventus remembered each one's story - she certainly didn't.

"You talked to Terra?" Ventus asked, cautiously in fact, like he expected a fight out of it.

"I did," Aqua replied, her tone suspicious. "Everything is fine."

This confused him a little. "Okay. So what now?"

"That's what I came to ask you."

He made himself comfortable on his own seat, and if she didn't have to burden him with huge existential questions about the direction of his future, he would have probably expected this day to be spent with another fun run in the woods, like any teenage boy would want to do. He still liked his poop and fart jokes (and Terra still laughed at them).

But Ventus was also the most determined, and she and Terra often made the mistake of underestimating him. He perked up with all the confidence of someone much older.

"Well, there's a lot of questions I want answered."

Immediately she leaned forward, her shoulders straight and ready for the responsibility. "Shoot."

He chuckled nervously, his hand deliberately massaging his neck. "Um… I don't think you'll be able to help me with any of them."

"Why not?"

"Well, unless Realm of Darkness gave you a history lesson about my past..." Ah. Of course. "It sucks not having anybody to talk to about it," he said, and Chirithy stopped its grooming. "No one alive, I mean. Xehanort must have known something, though. It didn't hit me until after he died, but now I don't have anyone to ask."

"... You want to leave, too?"

"I don't know," he said too quickly. "Maybe. One of these days, yeah. But there's also..." He lost the words, and placed a hand at the top of the book stack. "I was supposed to read these and write the Master an essay. He postponed the deadline so I could watch your Mark of Mastery."

Then he turned to her. "I kind of remember what it was supposed to be about, and I want to do the right thing and finish it first. Will you read it when I'm done?"

"Y-yeah, sure, if you think it would help."

"...Why are you so surprised? Aren't you my Master now?"

It left her with a breathless, dry laugh. "Am I?"

He shrugged, like it was the most obvious decision he could have made. "I can't think of anyone better."

"Ven," she said, her hand running through his hair. There wasn't a good enough _thank you_ for such a compliment. Not to her anyway, all she had was a meek nod.

Then the responsibility, the _honor_, of being his Master dawned on her - she would have to develop an academic plan for him.

But what of? In the silence that followed, she thought of her Master and his strict lessons, half their time spent in archaic books and the rest in sparring. Philosophy was processed, digested, and repeated instead of debated. Sometimes they had formal lessons in behavioral manners, politics - even history if they were lucky.

Much of it wasn't really relevant when all she had was her education in the darkest nights.

"If you really want to write the essay," she finally said, "we'll start with that."

She took the one at the very top, the most worn with a thick cover threaded by ancient hand-made methods from before book printing was a thing.

"_Affairs of the Heart_ by the Master of Masters," she read aloud. "Ugh, I remember when Terra and I had to read this one."

"Isn't it awful?"

"The worst."

Ventus shook his head with disgust. "I wonder if the entire thing is a lame excuse for a joke."

She snorted. "What do you mean?"

"_Thou shalt neither succumb at temptation and ne'er be fray y'est thine heart be ill-fitted with worrys_," he imitated with a deep, exaggerated voice, using his hand as a puppet.

"I don't think _y'est_ is a word, Ven."

"Whatever."

"The teachings have failed you?" Chirithy said, surprising her - she completely forgot it had been witness. It's so much like a cat sometimes: watching, ignoring, maybe even judging.

"You could say that," Ventus said with a nervous smirk, desperately and silently pleading at Aqua for permission to say more. "I mean, I don't want to say that my Master was a bad teacher. Without him, I wouldn't have been able to protect myself at all. He practically raised me and I owe him a lot-"

"Then what is troubling you?" Chirithy asked.

"I wasn't prepared to be fighting my own shadow." He leaned back, his hands supporting his head to give off the casual impression that nothing was really bothering him (it was). "He had a face and emotions, his own view of the world... Nothing I've ever read gave me the impression that was even possible."

Chirithy wiggled its ears, cocking its head. "Therefore your teachings about the light were incomplete?"

"Not at all." He straightened up like a lightning bolt. "I knew very little about the darkness and after everything that happened, I think a Keyblade Wielder should know more about it. I mean, I don't know where Xehanort got the idea to split me in two. Why _me_?"

"Your light has and will always be bright and powerful, Ventus," Chirithy chirped with _suspicious _confidence, before lowering its head. "It is ripe for the greedy, and I have seen the strongest faith break apart and cast the biggest, blackest shadows."

"Have you really?" Aqua intervened, now that they're on the subject. It kept its own past so close to its chest that catching it on the act of speaking was a golden opportunity. "You have any other unmatched and infinite wisdom you'd like to share, Cheers?"

"Like?"

Aqua rested her elbow on her knee, her chin in her hand. "Tell me about where you came from. Who taught you to speak?"

"I was made scientifically, in a flask," it said flatly. Maybe as far as sarcastically.

"Okay then," she nodded. "Well, I'd love to chat when you're ready to be serious."

"I have doppelgangers who all share my name," it continued. Ventus found this particularly funny.

"Yeah, sure," she brushed it off, turning her attention back to her new student. "Ven, I get it, I really do. I wasn't prepared for the Realm of Darkness, either."

"Really?" Now who was being cynical. "I don't think I would have stayed human if I was down there for that long… But you're a Master, so of course you survived."

It stung more than he realized, more than Terra would ever comprehend, more than Chirithy could measure, but Aqua kept herself calm.

She simply didn't know how to tell them that the savior they all saw in her was really an imposter.

"I'm just saying," she said, surprising herself with how steady she sounded, "that I don't want to follow the same path as our Master. If you think you'll find answers outside, then you deserve to know. I won't stop you."

Ventus' expression left Aqua wishing that one day soon, they could talk about the future without the baggage of the past. He was almost shocked, like this was his first taste of being treated as an adult, and he liked it.

Then there was a shift in his eyes, and she could tell that he didn't know how to walk the talk or where to begin. She didn't know either - should she really allow him to leave when he wanted or should they wait until he was Master before embarking on a treacherous journey first?

"I've got time to figure it out," he said. "I don't even know what I'm looking for yet. I'll stay here for now, at least until Terra's done with his training."

"Why is that?"

He said too much. "No reason."

"Ven, you know I don't like bullshit."

He flinched. "Promise not to get mad."

"I can't make-"

"Swear on this stupid book," he tapped _Affairs of the Heart_, "that you will not get upset."

She sighed, lazily putting her hand on the ancient tome. "I promise." Not a second too soon, she let go.

Ventus took his sweet time to respond. "We thought it might be a good idea to always have one Keyblade wielder in the castle at all times."

"That sounds sensible."

He was relieved - too relieved for her taste. "Really?"

"Huh." It wasn't for the castle's sake. It was for hers. "I don't remember needing bodyguards."

He squirmed. "You promised."

Her lips pursed to the point of soreness and she desperately wanted to assure him that yes, she wanted to smack him on the side of the head with that book.

But she had to admit watching his reaction was pretty funny. "Focus on your essay. I'll ask for it in about three days."

"I- I can't read all of that in-"

"Finish it."

She left him there, gently shutting the door behind her and overhearing him tell Chirithy that maybe she might be scarier than Eraqus. Aqua didn't actually commit to such a tight deadline, but she'd wait a little longer before informing him.

It seemed the moment Terra made his decision was proof that they all had to own up to their duties, and that their vacation of peace and reconciling was over.

Aqua walked down a hallway far enough to be sure she wouldn't be heard before whipping out her Gummiphone, scrolling through contacts. She understood the basic concept of how to use it, but it was still foreign enough that it wasn't second nature just yet. What a strange new life she woke back up to.

She found it, easily enough: Ienzo, Radiant Garden. She made the call, and a video screen lit up, his entire face on display.

"Master Aqua," he greeted. He was always so polite. "I've been expecting your call since we last spoke."

She hated the words that were going to come out, but it was time to take that first leap of faith into the abyss. "I'm ready to find my Keyblade."

"Yes," he confirmed. "I've already conducted a survey among the team and prior Organization members. I apologize again that I have no memory of it, I was so young.

"But anyway…" He cheered himself up. "You'll be happy to hear that yes, when Xehanort was found, there was a blue Keyblade and a set of armor by his side. Though I'm sorry to say that he experimented with it."

She told herself that _starting _was going to be the worst part, and it would get easier after she swallowed the bile building in her throat. "Can you elaborate?"

"Not on any human, mind you." His hand waved in dismissal at the camera. "He merely wanted it to cooperate. It wouldn't respond to him, it was as good as dead."

"Good." Her Keyblade, her own heart and soul bound to a weapon, made her proud.

"However, all the failures of making it spark discouraged him, so he locked it away."

"What does that mean?"

His eyes were far away now, gesturing to someone off-camera to leave him be for a minute. "He was very protective of it and didn't want to give anyone else a try."

_Protective _would be the last word she'd ever use to describe Xehanort, but this wasn't really just him, was it? This was also a white-haired Terra, someone who apparently didn't understand his own past, attached to a relic that reminded him of feeling.

It made her think of how doting Terra was to make her smile, and how enchanted he became when he succeeded.

And then she imagined a white-haired freak begging some inanimate object to give him the validation of a greeting.

She didn't know how to feel about that.

"Okay, where is it now?"

"No one knows," he said somberly. "I'm afraid I don't have a better answer for you…

"What we do have is a shelf of journals, including personal diaries and notes about his scientific experiments," he continued. "Perhaps the answer might lie inside?"

"No," she said and instantly regretted letting it out of her mouth. No, no, no, no. She didn't want to know anything about any of that: creating Heartless, locking people up, flirting and deceiving, backstabbing people who thought they were his comrades, all with Terra's face and hands.

This was exactly why she didn't want Terra to help her with this either. It was best to leave Xehanort buried and not do anything to revive him - _especially_ giving his thoughts any respect of existence. Why did the old man go and make things this complicated?

Taking a leap of faith was supposed to be like dipping into cold water - unpleasant and maybe painful at first but the temperature should level after a while.

This was more akin to jumping into acid now.

Right when proper words had failed her the most.

"I completely understand if you don't-"

"You misunderstand me," she corrected, and she regretted that too.

* * *

Terra kept his promise.

He came home right before the sun set behind the western mountains, when there was still enough light to filter through the stained glass. It barely took fifteen minutes after he arrived before it finally got dark - but not fifteen minutes too late, exactly as she needed him to.

Aqua gave in and asked Ienzo to ship Xehanort's journals. Now it was _anticipating _having to read them, and _wondering _what kind of horrid images she would have to expose herself to, and _why why why_.

She thought she had virtuoso though, and powered through dinner in spite of the storm brewing inside of her - which of course her boys noticed.

Ventus thought she was angry with him. Terra thought she was mad at him.

It wasn't until after dinner, when Terra approached her, that Aqua realized the minutes had betrayed her sense of time - at least the library was a pleasant place to spend them.

Open books littered the shelves and she already forgot where they belonged. Right now, she was too busy flipping pages from the one in her arms.

Terra put down a satchel with its flap pulled back. It was filled with raw, cloudy crystals, like he had just picked them out from some mines.

"Crystal magic?" she asked.

"Merlin wanted to start with something simple." He had his arms crossed, bracing for whatever she had to say that would upset him. She didn't mean to make him feel this way, especially to the point that he dug for conversations to lighten the mood.

"I wouldn't consider crystal activation as simple." It was bizarre that they would start with this - even she had a hard time bending hard minerals to her will, and she was better at this stuff.

"Don't let him hear you say that."

Awkward silence settled in. She was supposed to chuckle at that.

So Terra, nervously rolling his lips, scanned through the titles of the books around her, closing them and making a stack.

"You're reading about spirit guides," he said, not as a question but as an observation. "Interesting. Is this about Cheers?"

"He's a punk and won't answer my questions." She scoffed at the realization that she was probably fooling herself. "There isn't a single mention of a _Chirithy_ in any of these books."

"I see." He sneaked glances at her when he thought she wouldn't notice. "Is that what's bothering you?"

"No," she said weakly. She supposed she couldn't avoid it anymore. "If I want to find Stormfall, I'll have to read through Xehanort's personal diaries."

"Oh, Aqua." The horror in his voice confirmed her worst fears. "I'm so sorry."

"There's no guarantee that I'll find what I'm looking for, either. I could be exposing myself to nonsense for no good reason."

He leaned forward, his fingers bracing her shoulder and she remembered that he was warm. "What can I do to help?"

"Oh-" She shook her head and it made him feel worse. Terra always hated to be left out, and this was especially touchy considering the guilt leaking out of his eyes. "Terra, I don't think it's a good idea for you to..."

"Read them." He sighed. There was a question at the tip of his tongue, something he attempted multiple times to ask but zipped himself up. "... Do you not feel safe around me anymore?"

"What?"

"I'm asking since you won't…" He barely looked at her, whatever he was thinking of embarrassed him. She bet it was because she wouldn't sleep in his room anymore.

"Of course I do, that's not it at all..."

If only she had the gift to inspire with her words, to talk about these things without hurting his feelings. Both of them lived with shackles on their ankles from their past transgressions, heavy enough to sink them because it mattered _that_ much that they'd drown if they didn't tread lightly.

It was an awful way to exist. "I'm not getting better," she said.

"I think it's my fault because of the situation with the stupid chandelier."

That was only partially true. How could she let him know that being around him made her breathe easier? "It's not. There's just some things I think is best to fight alone, you know?"

He bitterly scoffed. "I wish you would tell me how I can help."

"Look at me." She wondered if sometimes it hurt him to do so. Her fingers gently grazed his, welcoming an embrace so he could be comforted by the things she was terrible at saying. "I will have to read some very upsetting things, and there will be days when I won't be okay. I'll need you to listen when that happens. I'll need you to be a shoulder for me."

It sounded weird to ask him to do that. It used to be that they would promise things like to _tell the other when they're wrong_, to _always split the food in equal thirds_, to _pass the exam together_. She stood on her own and he did just fine, too - like they were equals. Asking for his strength didn't used to be status quo but she could see how desperately he wanted to be there for her and how much brighter he was when she let him in.

He squeezed her hand tighter. "I'll do my best."

In the meantime, she would shoulder herself that night, to try again and sleep on her own before dumping loads on her best friend with anything else that would add weight to his burdens.

Soon enough, even though she made (triple) sure that her barriers were solid and tall, someone turned off the lights in her room as soon as she got into bed.

Someone sat at her vanity table, shadows cloaking enough to hide the identity but leaving a silhouette.

Someone breathed.

Someone shifted comfortably in her chair, watching her.

_Close your eyes_, said a female voice.

Aqua wouldn't, she'd die if she did.

The figure stirred when she refused, and crept closer to the bed, soft footsteps thudding on her carpet.

Once again, Aqua was a hostage in her body.

Her own face corrupted with golden eyes sauntered into the moonlight, looking down with disdain and curiosity.

_Close them_, her double said with the demand for appeasement, as if darkness required a toll to let her move.

Her anti-self firmly pressed a scaly, frigid finger to her lips to shush her whimpering, before clasping a claw stained with a bitter red over her eyelids.

* * *

Ironically, her favorite pastime was only something she could do in the dark.

Aqua had spent years forgetting that the darkness was capable of doing anything beautiful, its one and only good deed being its necessary presence when it let the stars out.

With her boys, it was easier to go outside and rely on their cues on whether danger lurked near. It never did in the Land of Departure; she knew this and yet somehow she still found ways not to believe it.

Their night time picnics took place in the safety of huge lanterns that lit the way through the training grounds, the dark mountains far enough away to look like an unassuming painting. Of course, it would be easier to see the stars in the forests, where artificial light had no power, but Aqua needed constant reassurance that nothing in the shadows would swallow her back to hell.

That was always the point - stay in the light and she could prepare herself for what was coming. Aqua prayed that one day she could be ordinary again, just to be able to camp in the wild like she used to.

Tonight, Ven's laugh made it seem like night never existed in the first place.

With a stick, a string, and a few molted feathers, he madeshift a cat toy for Chirithy - though it was entirely unamused and it squinted enough that it might have been annoyed. Terra tossed snarky comments that Ventus should find someone his own size to pick on (Terra was out of the question, much too big and much too strong).

While it was pleasant to enjoy a picnic with her boys like the old days, something about it didn't feel so normal - Chirithy would always be a living reminder that the Master was dead, and maybe that was a blessing: she could spare herself the grief of expecting him to join them.

She grabbed a wrapped rice ball from the basket - each was filled with spiced chicken, to Terra's delight - and bit into it.

"I've been procrastinating," she said to Terra who sat next to her on the checkered blanket, low enough that Ventus wouldn't hear.

He nodded, a half-eaten treat in one hand that he immediately ignored. "Have you read anything?"

It had been several days that she left the journals in a neglected pile in the Master's office.

"Yeah." All she did so far was peek into one, figuratively tossing a coin between the chance that it would be written with Terra's handwriting or someone else's...

It turned out to be someone else's, the word '_heart_' written on the page she pulled open. She shut it immediately because she couldn't handle the nausea.

Terra didn't ask for more information, forgetting he had food in his hand as his eyes glazed over and left the picnic he was supposed to be a part of.

"Did I say something wrong?" she asked.

"No." He shifted, leaning away like his first instinct was to avoid her and she hated how guilty he seemed all the time.

Then, after a time, he forced a smile - he really was good at giving himself silent pep talks to bravely face whatever he was worried about. "I saw Nami today."

For having their lives ruined for years, it was honestly good that he had such a trusted friend in Naminé. "How is she?"

"She's good." It was strange that he was nervous to speak about her, sitting on his legs in an awkward angle that it couldn't be comfortable.

"Terra."

"Yeah?"

"What is it?"

By now, Ventus was quiet, joining them on the blanket in the hopes of getting himself something delicious, but whatever appetite he had abandoned him in the presence of such tension. Chirithy crawled onto his lap, and to anyone else they looked like a boy keeping his stuffed animal close for comfort.

Actually, on second thought, he too was bracing himself for what was coming. Ventus _knew_ something.

"Okay," she commanded, "let's have it."

Rice fell in tiny clunks on the picnic blanket, like specks of snow. Terra didn't notice. "I asked her to…" He cleared his throat. "To rechain some of the memories that are disconnected from me."

Her heart stopped. "Excuse me?"

"Riku was with me, I didn't do it alone." He held his free hand up in surrender.

"I didn't-" She snapped, trapping her breath because she needed something to punish. "I didn't ask for this."

"I know." He looked past her, the courage to address her directly fleeting. "I only wanted to help."

"And what do you think it's going to do to you?" She dropped her rice ball and it splattered. "Did you think it was a good idea?"

"Aqua," Ventus objected, his brow furrowed like he was the one offended. "This is _Terra_ we're talking about. He wouldn't do anything to hurt you."

"Oh, but hurting himself is fine."

"You're not getting any better." Ventus leaned over, his hand drawing his points in the air, his tone slicing as sharp as mountain gusts. "And we both knew that you shouldn't be without a Keyblade. He said he was trying to help you out, or are you deaf?"

His words cut deeply enough to make her wince, and she wondered if it was a whiplash she started herself.

Was she doing it again, seeing Terra in such an awful way that she had to assume the worst? Was she going to have to watch him turn his back on her like he did before?

One of the things she regretted the most was refusing to hear what Terra had to say for himself that day.

"I didn't mean it that way-"

"She's right, Ven," Terra said, waving his arm. "I should have said something to her before I did anything."

If her words were going to continue to fail her, then she had nothing left except to crawl toward Terra, and lock him in her arms so tightly that it said what she needed to say better than she was capable of. All she had left was to hope that he heard her correctly.

He heard her right, taking her waist with both his arms, protecting her from herself. "I'm sorry. You won't lose me again."

* * *

Whatever it was that kept her company late at night - her mind, really - was the worst friend she ever had.

There she was on her bed, again, preparing for her routine: start with casting Reflect, pace back and forth, and then stare at the ceiling until she stopped remembering anything else before the sun greeted her.

It was bad enough that her boys noticed her deterioration, and they hadn't even seen what she was doing by herself when she closed the door.

When awake, she wanted to sleep so badly but when asleep, she begged to be wake up. A proper Keyblade Master should have a little more self-control.

However, Aqua didn't consider herself enough of a proper Master to really know what she was doing. Her hands kept finding her Gummiphone, fiddling with her contact list, and then dropping it back on her bed.

She was sick of nights like these. She texted Terra: _Are you awake?_

Almost immediately: _kitchen. lights are on._

Indeed there was one path of lit hallways taking her straight to the kitchen, the sky through the upper windows blackened from the clouds.

He sat on a stool at the middle counter, head buried in his hands with the teapot steaming by his side and the Master's mug filled to the brim. His thumb massaged his temple, and he didn't give much of a response when she entered and found her place next to him.

"This is my second cup," he sighed as he passed it toward her. Considering how huge it was, it was more like his fourth. "It'll help you better, I think."

It was chamomile tea even though he hated the taste of it. As she sunk a huge gulp, she tasted all the experimentation he did to make it pleasant: lavender, almond milk, and honey. He even added vanilla extract to make it sweeter, which meant his insomnia was quite serious this time.

"Delicious as always." Warmth filled her throat and solaced her chest down to her core, as though it was telling her that sleep wasn't a fantasy.

Terra did not reply. With elbows pressed onto the marble and his mouth leaning on his hands, he looked elsewhere - at the wall across from them. His pupils shivered as hard as his eyelids, his thoughts fighting a difficult battle all by himself.

Aqua traced her fingers on his arm. "Terra, where are you?"

Whatever he was thinking imprisoned his full attention, but it let him mumble, "I have memories that aren't mine."

A sick feeling of _I told you_ _so_ bubbled in her stomach, mixed with imagining the horrid images he was remembering, and fear of the sorrow that was threatening to barge in. He didn't deserve to experience this, and yet this was something Terra would have always chosen to do: spare her from the same.

"Please stay with me," she said, both hands wrapped around his forearm now, gently coaxing him back to reality where it was safer.

He blinked as though a strong light beamed into his eyes, and several more times to stop the tears. Sighing, settling into the stool, letting his shoulders relax, he turned to her, taking her fingers in his, and he looked at her like he actually saw her.

"I'm here."

Two words from him was enough. She handed the mug back and helped herself to leaning against his bicep, which was more comfortable than her pillow.

Terra took a huge swallow, his thumb gliding across her knuckles - ever since he grew into himself and passed through adulthood, his hands had become humongous. She used to amuse herself with thoughts that he needed a hand just as big to hold.

Of course, hers were dainty in comparison even though they carried weight far heavier than most.

Yet despite how much he dwarfed her, they still fit perfectly together.

He swallowed again, before croaking, "They're still in the Master's office, right?"

She nodded into his arm.

He steadied, leaning away to address her directly. "Let's take care of them."

Indeed, those journals were still in their same positions on the Master's large mahogany desk, almost perfectly stacked out of neglect.

Terra opened one of the books on the top, and only glanced through it before snapping it back closed.

Whether what little he read disturbed him or not, she couldn't tell.

"Do you still need them?" he asked.

That was probably the most cynical question he had ever asked her. "No."

"Good."

On the opposite end of the Master's office was the fireplace, cleaned of soot. Terra didn't need to mention it when they both thought of the same thing.

If a fire was built out of curses, would it still be considered a hearth?

It cackled and spit when the hard leather hit, and it would take a couple of burns to melt all of the clumps but the point of this ritual was to throw their shackles overboard and watch them combust. Every journal aflamed burned more knots from her shoulders.

She had a fleeting desire to touch the fire herself, and see if it could burn away the nightmares, too.

"I feel so much better," he said, on his knees. "You?"

For her, the warmth lasted for only a few moments. "I'd still have to go back to my room, and I don't…" She scoffed. "I don't even know what to say about that."

"You should sleep here."

In between the fireplace and the rest of the office was a rug on the floor and a long, supple couch surrounded by coffee tables and footrests.

She hummed. "That would place me far away from you guys."

"I could stay with you," he offered and realized it might have been an embarrassing thing to say.

"Terra-"

"You know what, Aqua? I have to be honest. I really want to be with you for the night." He rolled his lips and held his breath for her response, but didn't let her say anything more. "Maybe I shouldn't even ask but I don't understand the point of not saying anything - I just needed to get that off my chest."

"Terra," she said more sternly (but with a smirk) to warn him against interrupting her. "I want you to stay with me, but…"

Her eyes wandered the office. The fire shone a bright light against the furniture but as much as it was healing, it left heavy, glaring shadows. She had to walk to the entrance and turn the rest of the lights on. "I don't want you to be bothered by the lights."

"I won't be."

"_And_ there's just stuff I have to do now before I can even relax."

"Then do them." He shrugged, a warm smile welcoming her home. "Do what you have to do, I don't care."

She shook her head. "I don't like needing anything. I needed and needed and _needed_ so much for so long and nothing happened, and now it feels like I'm losing a game I don't want to play."

"But if you're taking care of yourself," he came closer to her, his arms crossed, "isn't that more like winning?"

She was going to say that he didn't understand what she was going through, when the straightening of his mouth stopped her. Something in his mind hung on to him, and it hurt him, and he was about to free himself and let it go.

"What if I told you," he said, "that I needed you? Is that okay?"

"Of course."

Nerves trickled up his arms. "It's harder to sleep without you."

She fiddled with her fingers. "I feel the same way."

He cleared his throat, putting on a brave face to stop himself from chuckling. "Then please spare me from another awful night."

Those were words that she could have said but pride was a sensitive, whiny thing.

She shut the door in front of her, and checked to make sure it was locked twice. With that secured, she murmured her Reflect spell to cover the entire doorway.

"Ah," he tisked. "Can I play your game, too?"

Aqua stammered a laugh. "The windows, please."

"Say no more."

He traveled opposite from the door, and took extra care that his Reflect spell stretched beyond the windowsill. In the meantime, she worked on putting a barrier over the fireplace, before heading towards the biggest piece of furniture in the room.

"The wardrobe, too?" he asked.

Aqua wasn't the type to feel particularly shy, but in this moment, she second-guessed herself.

"Sorry," he said, briskly opening it to fetch a black rag and then giving her the cue to help herself.

"What is that for?"

He wrapped it around his eyes, tying a knot that scrunched his hair. It was thick enough to block the light pounding from all around him, and he squeezed her hand with his to remind her that he chose to stay with her. "You're doing me a favor, so it's the least I can do. Now we're even."

His fingers played with hers, and if they had feelings, then they were smiling.

"Am I going to have to keep you from knocking into things?"

"Maybe," he drawled like a child. "I'm used to this, actually."

"What do you mean?"

"I spent quite a long time looking at nothing but darkness," he softly said, his voice getting distant. "I don't really need to see. I don't really need to touch you either to... feel your presence near me. I can tell where the furniture is if I'm close enough. It's really familiar."

A cold nausea swept over her.

If this was how it was for him all this time… Was it the same that fateful night in the Realm of Darkness when the monster attacked her?

What was it called again… the Guardian? Terra just couldn't see that it was her he was ruining, or was it something else…?

"Aqua?"

True, he didn't need to see her to understand that something was bothering her. His head leaned over to listen to for a cue, and when he didn't get any he lifted the rag to find her with one eye.

She stood still long enough that her hand went limp in his.

"I hate this," she said.

He didn't understand what she meant, and as though she had transferred pain into him, he started to slip his fingers away. She held them tighter as reassurance.

"Is it just me," she breathed, "or was it easier for us to be ourselves before the Mark of Mastery? Tell me I'm not misremembering how we used to be, I just hate the way it's been so hard to talk about anything."

"Y-yeah. I know what you mean."

"I want us to go back. I want to tell you things I wouldn't say to anyone else. I don't want us to have to hide anything."

He nodded sadly. "I want the same."

"Then let's start over."

"Aqua," he chuckled. "I have too many special memories to start anew, but…" He tugged at her, leading her to the couch where he leaned against the backrest and brought his ankles to one of the embroidered footrests, accommodating his body until he found peace.

All of the paper succumbed to the flames and left a void where something could replace it and keep the hearth going, but that was the point. They were not made of wood; they were stronger than that, and they should be able to withstand what hellfire rained on them.

She followed, tucking his hand against her chest as she settled on the couch and laid her head on his lap, which prompted him to lift one thigh higher to support her neck. He began tracing circles in her hair and rubbing his thumb on her forehead.

In her position, she watched him pull the rag back down to cover his eyes.

"Then let's start with," she whispered, "what you saw when you met with Naminé. Where is Stormfall?"

He sighed, his body slackening despite the nature of the question. He let go of her hand to bring it around her waist and held her closer, as though she was too close to the edge.

"There was a long, white hallway with many doors…"


	3. 3: nobody

**A/N: SO MANY THANK YOU'S AND I LOVE YOU'S TO ELI WHO BETA-READ THIS FOR ME. **  
**Also I'm evil for writing this, I know. It'll get better, I promise.**

* * *

Waking up was always disorienting, maddening even.

Aqua was going to mumble that she needed five extra minutes. She deserved as much, but the shake on her arm was warm and gentle… she would even say _loving_, and she didn't want him to let go.

Terra knelt by the couch where she took refuge. They had adopted the habit of sleeping in the Master's old office every night right by the fireplace, where she dreamt better. Sleep became safe enough for her to stay, and Terra was now the one who started his day earlier. Somehow, he snuck her out of his arms with finesse, each and every time, that she'd never even stir.

In the sunshine, his eyes were bold.

"Good morning," he said softly. His smile was a welcome sight. She'd grown to need it every time she opened her eyes in order to breathe steadier, and with every cycle of the sun coming up over the mountains, she's forced to muster enough strength to keep herself from blurting out such a delicate truth.

Fighting Heartless was easier than this.

"Morning," she hummed, rubbing her eyes.

His smile tightened, weaving shut whatever bad news he carried with him.

"I didn't want to scare you," he said. He wasn't talking about shaking her awake - the way his throat gripped his voice said so.

Aqua immediately stood up, tiredness forgotten. "What happened?"

His lips quivered. "Ven won't wake up."

She bolted out of the office, through the hall to the western wing, down the bridges to the tower where the bedrooms were. It all passed in a blur.

She stormed into Ven's room. He was sound asleep in bed, his breath inaudible and unmoving.

"Ven." His skin at least was warm, though he looked otherwise. "Ven, please. Please wake up."

She whimpered, she cried, she whispered. He wouldn't listen.

And he was all by himself.

When Terra followed inside, she was ready to throw chairs over. "Where's Cheers?"

"I don't know."

"What does that mean?" she snapped. Not even the boom in her voice woke Ven up.

"Aqua," he whispered, coming close to her, brushing his fingertips on her forearm like she was a wounded animal. He kept so calm. She was envious of that. "I don't know."

Meltdowns came in two storms: like thunder, explosive and loud and terrifying, unable to be calmed until it passed, hurting anyone unlucky enough to be exposed. If not that, then like the rain, building into a downpour, enough to flood someone's face, and keep them weighted underneath the surface.

Aqua experienced the latter, hunching over her shoulders as she wished she never learned how to cry. She crawled onto Ven's bed to settle by his side, holding a hand over his heart, which still thrummed under her palm.

Terra joined her by taking Ven's other side, and rested his hand over hers. It wasn't as warm as it was just several minutes ago.

"It's all my fault," she said, sweeping Ven's hair out of his face. "I took too long to save him."

"Then it's mine, too." He stared long enough for her to be swallowed by his eyes, which were glassy. "I was idle when I should have-" he gulped.

They've had this conversation before, and no amount of repetitions or apologies would change anything.

Still, he finished the one thought he repeated the most. She could recite the words for him: "I should have saved all you, and I did nothing instead."

If conversations went in ellipses, Terra and Aqua always took the same orbit and never crossing over into the details. Sometimes they got close enough to finally spill, only to back off. Sometimes they never even came close. It was always about _I should have done more _and skipping over _This is what happened to me. _

She sighed, taking two of his fingers with two of hers. When words wouldn't suffice, or refused to come, they carried a language in their hands.

_It's okay_, was what she said through them this time.

She wondered if time would be generous enough one day to wipe their minds and give them a fresh start. "What are we going to do?"

He gave her a gentle squeeze. "We'll figure something out," he said. "We'll do whatever it takes, go wherever we need to go."

When it came to the well-being of other people, Terra was always the most confident, the most faithful, the most daring. He never offered himself the same kindness.

"What if we can't-" she started.

"Aqua…" He stroked her thumb with his, and she shushed, feeling Ven's heart thump under their grip.

There was a swoosh and a sparkle that lit up the room. Chirithy landed on the bedside table from wherever it came from, like nothing was amiss.

But Aqua wasn't going to let it get away with anything.

"Where were you?" she growled while she rolled over from the bed.

Terra stayed behind and carried Ven's into his arms.

Chirithy twitched its ears like it wasn't sure what it heard. "Why are-"

"What did you to him?"

It hung its head, a deep pout into its eyes and two paws gnawing at its chin. "I sent him a dream," it squeaked.

"Excuse me?" she spat. Aqua had prepared for nights when something would go bump in the dark. The only thing that surprised her was that it happened in the morning. She was ready to protect her family, marching up to Chirithy and about to grab the creature when Terra-

"Aqua," he called gently like he was cooing her, with a smile that told stories of compassion while Ven slept soundly in his arms. He didn't judge her, he never did. "Don't."

She could but she didn't, not with Terra looking at her like that, like he understood that it would only suck her into a black hole if she continued.

Terra wanted peace, and she complied.

"I came back so he would follow me," Chirithy said, twiddling its paws. Its ears drooped down, and its voice trembled. It actually started to cry, with mewls as sobs. "He will wake up, I promise."

Aqua's breath shook with all her pent-up anger, which was at war with reassurance and guilt.

She didn't mean to make it cry.

Terra said, "If he- When he wakes up, we need to act normal. He'll get scared and will never want to sleep ever again."

Aqua drew a long, long breath. Terra was right. The only reason Ventus was able to doze off these days was because of Chirithy, when getting him to stay in bed beforehand was a marathon of hours that ran late into the night.

She shot Chirithy a glare instead of speaking, dabbing the tiniest of tears out of her eyes. Terra was breathing harder than usual, and that was because he was also taking a risk in trusting Chirithy.

Then there was a sharp inhale, and a mumble. Ven.

"Wha-?" he drawled, his eyes too groggy to register who was holding him. "Why-"

Terra was better at hiding his feelings, and he dodged the onslaught of teary relief taking over him by rough-housing Ventus to consciousness.

"Umf, Terra-"

"That's what you get," Terra said, making a mess out of blond hair.

"For _what_?"

"You were snoring really loudly." Terra finally let him go.

Ventus pushed him over (weakly, nothing could really push Terra over), and rubbed his eyes hard enough to make them red.

It was time to play along. Aqua smiled to fake it, and glided over to the bed, finding a particular spot that acted as a barrier between Chritihy and her dear, dear friend. "We should have used one of those gummi phones to record you."

At this, Ventus stuck his tongue out. "Do that and I'll never let you in my room again."

It seemed to have worked - knowing him, he'd expect both of them to snicker behind his back. Lying was a tiny cost for the greater good.

"Where's Cheers?" he asked, surveying the room, and it honestly made Aqua's heart drop.

Chirithy waddled over, settling into Ven's lap. "I had the craziest dream last night."

"I told you." Chirithy wiggled its ears, taking its place in the middle of a reluctant family, and Aqua wondered if Terra felt like his choice in the matter was stolen from him, too.

"Tell us," Terra said softly, like nothing bothered him. He'll have to teach Aqua his ways later.

Something far away made its way to Ven's eyes as he recalled it. "I was in an underground city - no, not underground. It was underwater. And there were people there I recognized, but I couldn't tell who they were. I didn't know their faces."

What was more threatening than Ven's coma was the idea that Chirithy tried to take him to strangers.

Ven lit up. "Sora was with them. I saw Sora!"

Aqua and Terra exchanged brief, uneasy side-glances. It had been several weeks since Sora's disappearance, and neither of them had traces that could lead them anywhere.

"What did he say?" Terra asked.

"He asked if I was okay," Ventus said, a warm smile gracing his face. "That was it."

Maybe Chirithy did Sora a favor.

Ven watched Aqua, leaving behind his thoughts. "Is everything alright?"

"No," she sighed. "I mean- yes. We're just running really late."

"Oh, shit!" (_Language, Ven_, said Terra.) He threw himself off the bed as soon as he got the reminder. "Sorry! I'll eat breakfast right away and get ready. C'mon Cheers."

Like nothing was truly wrong, Ventus rushed out of his room with a cat that wasn't quite a predator trailing his feet.

Aqua breathed hard. "Do you think-"

"Maybe," Terra said.

"What Cheers can do..."

"It's a little weird." Terra gazed at her, gently stroking her arm. "He's fine now."

"But-"

"I don't think Cheers meant to hurt him."

Aqua smiled but it contorted into a grimace that strained for control. "I've changed too much," she said. She never trusted anyone again. She got too hot-headed and protective of her loved-ones to her detriment, and she refused help worse than she used to.

"You're fine the way you are. I'd rather have an Aqua in my life than somebody else." He scoffed like what he said wasn't a big deal.

She took his hand to acknowledge his compliment, squeezed it to tell him she appreciated it, and slammed it onto the bed sheets to tell him he needed a new friend. He chuckled.

Then she let go, as she always did when there were things to do and reasons to get away from intimate conversations that could change the course of their friendship forever. Those were dangerous waters, and they needed to tread carefully.

But Aqua only made it to the hallway when she gasped sharply, the air turning cold enough to slice her throat.

At the end of the hallway - the _opposite _direction that Ventus and his Chirithy took to get to the kitchen - was another.

Its back was to her, its cape as red and pink as a bodily organ, its fur a plum purple. She didn't have to look into its face to know it might be rabid. She didn't have a clean history with their Chirithy, but this one was definitely not friendly, and it invaded her home.

"What's wrong?" Terra asked, rushing out of Ven's room.

She took one glance at him and then back - and the dark Chirithy was gone. "It was right there." She pointed.

Terra stood in that direction, and cupped her chin to bring her to him. The way he looked at her - sometimes it was inconvenient to deal with how well he could read her. "Aqua, there's nothing there."

"It was another Chirithy."

"Okay."

She shook in his fingers, and held his wrist tight enough to make him pay attention to every single little word. "I'm not crazy."

Terra traced her jaw to cup her head with both hands, his breath deep enough to lure her to follow his rhythm. Forehead to forehead, his eyes demanded _her _attention. "You're not. I'll make laps around the castle to make sure. You get dressed, we have a lot to do today. Let me know if you need help."

With that, he rubbed her cheeks with his thumbs and left her colder than she was in his proximity.

It certainly never was in her plans to let him in that way. Before, the thought of him dressing her was… embarrassing yet safe, maybe exciting a little. Now it just made her blush.

But blushing was a minor thing in comparison to how her heart leaped right now, and the feelings she always knew she had were threatening to betray their little secret.

Aqua peeked into her room first to make sure the mirror was still covered, exactly the way she left it, before stepping inside.

* * *

The trick to facing her fears, Aqua thought to herself, was to keep breathing.

She kept hers steady with every stride, maintaining a momentum that led her forward while she left everyone else behind, including Ienzo, who was supposed to be her guide. If she slowed down, even for a second, who knew what kind of thoughts would invade her mind.

Around the corner was Ansem the Wise's office. It was a little messy, but the old man wasn't keen on dusting old and painful memories just yet when his team was so focused on improving lives for the future.

Aqua wasn't expecting anything when she entered - certainly not the giant painting of Terra's face.

Yet it wasn't Terra's face. He wouldn't look this serious, this arrogant, this distant from whoever it was that painted this portrait, his white hair styled with so much gel that it looked oily.

It made her angry, and soon Terra was going to catch up with her.

"Fire," she hummed with a low voice, her fingers outstretched as she heated the fibers that brought those colors together until they burst through brown eyes, and false-Terra's face was no more.

"Whoa," Ven's voice said behind her, watching the show. "Aqua, that isn't ours to mess with."

She knew that. Certain things just seemed trivial, silly even, after the years she's had. "It's not good for Terra to see this."

Ienzo was the next to enter the room. He stammered at the sight, and readjusted his already impeccable collar to compose himself. "I suppose we do not need it anymore," he simply said, and Aqua felt justified.

Terra was the last to come. The first thing he noticed was the smokey soot littering the ground under an empty frame. He smirked - there was no telling if he knew what it used to look like, but considering that no one in the room talked about it (like it never existed in the first place), he let it go, taking one look at Aqua like he knew she was to blame.

What was more important was behind the frame: a secret passageway to… a field of underground containers. It was gross to see, violating almost, like they were designed to hold bodies (hearts, more likely).

It also led to a room full of computer screens, where Ienzo gestured to Terra.

"I already know how to get to the bottom floor," said Ienzo. He typed several passwords into the computer. Whatever they hid down below was well guarded. "But I have never, in all my life, been able to access that final room. None of us have. If what you say is true…"

"It is," Terra said. He had his arms crossed but his naturally polite smile glowed with ease. Ienzo flustered at the sight of it.

"T-then I should be able to access it." Ienzo focused strongly on the keys below him, before commanding it to do something with a final touch of a button.

Whatever machinery he summoned was loud, and the floor under her vibrated ever so softly. An entrance through the floor opened far from them.

"Are you all ready?" Ienzo asked.

The smile on Terra's face - the one he wore for the sake of saving face when he dealt with strangers - fell completely, dragging his eyes down to the floor.

"Aqua," he called, approaching her. For a moment, she thought he was going to take her hand, but he stopped himself short.

They were in public.

Instead, he traced her hand with his gaze, before following her arm to her eyes. "I don't…" he started softly, quieting it into an almost-whisper. "I don't think it's a good idea for me to go down there."

If Aqua was honest, she had been dreading this day. She couldn't gauge how Terra would behave: whether he would get hysterical, or turn stone-cold, or disappear altogether.

So this, _this_, she appreciated. And she was proud of him for recognizing it before throwing himself head-first against a brick wall of triggers.

They preferred touching a private act but Aqua decided to risk it: she graced two of his fingers with a firm clutch, taking a moment to consciously ignore how the others avoided to witness. "I agree."

Terra let himself breathe. Funny how sometimes the act of drinking air made them feel unsafe. "Riku and Isa are waiting for me outside. I'll be with them," he said.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of Aqua," Ventus said.

"Then she's in good hands." To her, he said, "You'll feel better with a Keyblade." With that, Terra let go, hesitating while turning over his shoulder, and taking it slow to leave the room.

Ienzo cleared his throat - he did that too often, and Aqua had half a mind to advise him to drink water. "Well, onward and downward I suppose."

"Do you not want to go?" Aqua asked.

Ienzo was usually so sweet, it was hard to see how aloof he became. "Of course not. You will see why."

The passageway that led downstairs spiraled into darkness, as though the lights from above couldn't reach. Traversing them was enough of an exercise, and every once in a while, Ventus would complain: _Are we there yet? Who was stupid enough to design it this way? Whatever is down there better be worth it. _

When they finally reached the door, it was worth it to Ventus, who awed and poked his head through immediately. It was just one hallway, its white walls pristine as though the last person who left it behind had scrubbed it of all proof of activity.

But a mass of darkness stained its walls, unseen to the naked eye but it lingered all the same. To Aqua it was sickening, and the hand to her mouth didn't quell the nausea.

"Down here," Ienzo said. He was acting more and more like a zombie with every step he took.

"What were these rooms for?" Ventus asked.

Aqua knew Ienzo had history here. Of all the darkness she faced and inhabited inside her own body, she could never imagine how to make peace with the horrors made with his hands. How to pay for them. How to amend.

Ventus could never understand Ienzo either for this exact reason, and she hoped that would always stay the same.

"Experiments," Ienzo said. He offered nothing else.

So they walked in silence. Some of the shut doors had peep holes with bars that blocked views. Aqua could make out that some of them had machinery inside, whereas others were empty. Ventus had to jump and grab the bars just to see - his imagination had much more fun than either of theirs.

At the end of the hallway was another shut door. Aqua nearly called it Terra's door, but he'd be sick if he was here, too.

Ienzo approached a keypad, activating it based on Terra's instructions. The door slid open with a hiss, and all three of them just stood there. Neither volunteered to go in first.

"After you." Ienzo waved his arm out, and she wished he didn't.

Inside was another white room, but it gave her a horrid, _frigid _deja vu.

Energy radiated in chains, from the throne at the center outward to the walls. This room… it was almost an exact copy of the room she left Ventus to sleep in years ago. How this was possible, who knew he was there to begin with? Who tried to find him?

Thank goodness he was safe all this time.

"Aqua," Ventus called, "look!"

Swept and left to the side was a heap of blue metal, the only color in this cold room.

And if Keyblades had faces, Aqua wouldn't know if hers would welcome this reunion.

"My word," Ienzo said. "Never in my wildest dreams would I have considered this being here." The way he said it sounded like he was just as creeped out as she was. "How fortunate for you, we were about to seal this entire floor forever."

She raced to her Keyblade and stopped herself just short of embracing it.

Did it want her back?

Stormfall was the extension of her heart and very soul. If she was afraid of it, then surely…

No, sentience of a Keyblade didn't work that way. She had to believe that.

"Who built this?" she asked as she knelt to her knees.

"Xemnas." By now, Ienzo had stopped smiling, had stopped being warm and inviting, like he stopped realizing there were reasons to continue living.

Yes, she knew of Xemnas. She recognized a face out in the desert the very last time she fought thirteen darknesses. Then they all perished before she had a chance to speak to him.

Thinking about it, would she even had wanted that?

What would she have spoken with him about? Here was proof that he still had attachments to people he didn't really know that well or understood, and here she was without the foggiest idea of who he was.

The only thing Aqua wanted back the first time she saw him was Terra, plain and simple. Xemnas stole a body, stole a face, did unspeakable things that Terra wasn't capable of doing, and she wasn't sure if any of that was worthy of forgiveness.

If Xemnas somehow missed her presence, missed Ventus, or wished for a better life, she wouldn't know. Or maybe he was cold-hearted to the end.

Even if she found it in her heart to befriend him, there was no denying Xehanort's influence and how dangerous that was no way she was going to accept a single strand of white hair on Terra's head until he was old enough to grow them.

… She remembered now. Sentience of a Keyblade was the reflection of her relationship with herself. And there was nothing to be proud of.

Therefore, her Keyblade couldn't be proud of her either.

"What was he like?" Ventus asked.

"Xemnas?" Ienzo cleared his throat. Again. It took him several moments, a string of loud breaths to find words to describe such a person, and Aqua brushed her fingers against her blade, a soft, tender energy to the metal as it woke up and recognized her.

"He wasn't someone to be crossed," Ienzo finally said.

Ventus sighed. "Guess I wouldn't have liked him."

She grabbed the hilt slowly, trying not to offend. It's so much lighter than the Master's Defender.

With Stormfall in her hands, she trembled harder than ever. If this was what it felt like to be whole, then it dug a new void inside of her, her body betrayed, her senses violated, and there wasn't a spell in the world that could clean her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to it, softly enough that only Stormfall would hear, thinking about the last person who held it in his hand. "I did it for him."

Calm embraced her. Stormfall didn't regret it either.

Ienzo chuckled, not paying attention to what Aqua was doing whatsoever. "Xemnas never smiled like Terra, that's for certain."

"Enough about Xemnas," Aqua said, shutting them up. In a time like this, when she needed to coax her Keyblade home, the last thing she needed to think about was a stranger, much less a clone.

It was bitter, maybe even dejected? It was her heart, so Stormfall would always be hers.

And it was just as much Terra's. If he had to use it to protect himself, Stormfall would have agreed. Those bonds were the point of a Keyblade.

She willed it to stay with her - it didn't respond like Master's Defender, which was always ready to protect, a simple testament of a father.

Stormfall had a different perspective in life - it was always ready to attack.

Aqua decided for now to keep it in her hand, let it get used to being held, let it learn what it felt like to be home again.

Afterward, she focused on collecting every piece of her armor with her free hand, leaving no scraps behind as it easily made its way back into her skin and into her heart, waiting for the next time she needed it.

"You're not in the least bit curious?" Ventus asked her.

He was still on about Xemnas? "No." She stood up, taking her route out of the room.

"But-"

"What's in the past should stay buried there." She didn't mean for her voice to echo through the hall. "He's gone. He's no one. We have Terra back, that's all that matters."

Aqua didn't like the look he gave her - shocked, a little anxious, pitiful. But he understood when he nodded, letting his initial distaste for her reaction melt away into something much more accepting. He was truly the only one of the three to have a level head, much smarter than either of them give him credit for. This was the benefit of keeping a childlike wonder of the world - it made him stronger than anyone else.

"You're right," he said. "Come on, this place sucks. Let's get some fresh air."

The trek upstairs was more tiring than the other way, and Ventus complained with every step.

* * *

Outside was a different story altogether. Aqua still had Stormfall in her hand, the sun getting ready to rest on the peaceful city of Radiant Garden. But there was still some bustle, the clash of metal and the sparks of magic slamming against each other.

She and Ventus walked down the castle steps that led to where Terra, Riku, and Isa sparred in the gardens beyond the moat. Aqua stopped to watch; it had been a while since she studied the way Terra fought, and if he didn't know she was peeking into his private training, then he wouldn't mind.

Terra moved as she always knew. He was precise, commanding of his space. He conquered when he invaded the gap between himself and his opponent, he was hard to knock backwards, and he was graceful in the control he had of his body. He was beautiful.

Isa still had his giant cleaver - if he would eventually agree to a Keyblade, the only person he wanted to bequeath him was Lea, who still had a long way to go before he had the privilege... but maybe it didn't matter since their bond was stronger than tradition. If Terra was aggressive, he didn't hold a candle in comparison: shockwaves and blasts and ruptures that engulfed the entire garden and whatever else that fit the definition of excessive outbursts. This was what Isa always knew, and once he had a Keyblade, it would be interesting to see just how useful his skills would be. He'd be able to cover wide surface areas, perfect in protecting others.

Then there was Riku, quick and efficient and stronger than he looked, parrying attacks with simple strikes. He was only flashy when he needed to be, preferring perfection of technique. It made sense why they chose Riku, all of them having been witness to an invasion of darkness within their bodies, all of them having to rise above it in their own ways.

Riku egged both of them on, paying particular attention to Terra.

There was a lot of,_ Come on, Terra. _

And, _You can do this. _

Plus, _Don't be afraid of yourself. _

The more Terra listened, the more a black slickness flickered off his skin. Riku was teaching him to control the darkness that would forever be a scar.

Aqua told herself she didn't mind that.

Then a hole of darkness opened in the ground, and she lurched forward, nearly vaulting onto a steppe just above her. Terra was going to be swallowed again, and this time he jumped in on his own accord.

She was about to yell, but Riku wasn't disturbed by it. _Great_, was what he said, and he circled the perimeter with the expectation that something was coming. Isa was unsure of what to do, keeping still as he looked over his shoulder and by the trees.

A hole opened right under him, to his dismay, and Terra bolted out of it, thrusting his power upward on an Isa who was ill-prepared.

And Riku congratulated Terra for finally accepting such a technique with professionalism.

It made Aqua whimper for a bit, enough for Ventus to rush over to her side, asking her what was wrong.

"It's…" She didn't continue. It was like watching that thing, that Guardian all over again. That was what it loved to do in a fight: creep and wrestle and catch its opponents by surprise with no mercy.

It never left Terra. Was he even aware of it?

Of course not, she never told him.

"I'm fine," she said to Ventus, straightening herself up. "It just surprised me, that's all." She gave him the most genuine smile she could fake, and it seemed like he accepted it. It seemed.

Sparring was finished for the day, and Terra rested his giant Keyblade onto his shoulder as he heaved with breath and chuckled, like it was the end of a pleasant few hours of hard work. Riku was much more distant - Sora's disappearance had been a heavy weight, and conversation with him was like talking to a wall half the time, but he responded when he had to.

Isa said something with a very serious face, and Terra and Riku melted into laughter.

Aqua didn't even notice that Naminé was there, sitting on a stone bench to watch them fight while she drew sketches of their postures. She was also one who was hesitant about taking a Keyblade, but if she decided yes, she wanted Terra's blessing.

Naminé had Chirithy by her side, and carried it with her when she was ready to join the conversation. Could the all-knowing cat ever sense that she wasn't created in a womb?

"We're having dinner with them downtown," Ventus said.

"Huh?"

"We were invited." He rolled his eyes. "Don't you open your gummiphone?" He flipped his out and scrolled through text messages. "You should get on top of that, we're going to look like old people to them."

"Okay."

"Lea will be there," he said like it was incentive. "And Kairi, and Xion. Roxas, too. Everyone. It should be nice."

There was a nagging feeling in the clutch of her diaphragm that Ventus was implying she should get out more.

Sure, she could handle it. She could push back the memories of shadows, and of giant demons with horns and bindings on their mouths from her mind for a couple of hours.

* * *

Aqua took plenty of time to spar by herself. Stormfall was a bit of a hassle, and Ventus, as her student, was sometimes the victim of heavy handling when Aqua never meant to.

He laughed about it, said her Keyblade was just as snippy as she was.

So she cut half her days between her apprentice and herself, while Terra continued his private lessons with Riku.

Her boys expected that she would suddenly turn over a new leaf with her reunion - as though all the things she feared would magically disappear. They didn't. The only person that drew away the nightmares was Terra, and that was because they continued to sleep together in the Master's office, legs finding spaces in between to settle for the night, and arms resting under torsos and heads since the couch was so small. Under his chin and against his chest, Aqua would always be safe.

She tried to turn off lights by herself, daring to sit in a dark room for ten minutes. She still couldn't bring herself to do it.

She tried to look at her reflection in the mirror, but she wouldn't pull the bedsheet off of it.

And Aqua promised herself she would be braver the next day, the next morning, the next hour.

But at least she didn't consider herself a coward. It wasn't like she wasted twelve years for nothing. She just needed time.

Terra had been busier with Merlin's lessons but he still kept his promise with coming home before the sun set completely, though now he often rushed into the workroom, tucked at the back of the castle where machinery and hand tools were stored.

It was where she initially welded all of their Wayfinders.

Terra was there tonight with an apron on, his quartz crystals shaped in hexagonal styles, with each end pointed and pretty. He hustled with mixing water on his sandpaper, and scrubbed away at each side of each crystal before starting the tedious process of using the polish.

"Knock knock," she said, tapping the doorway. "How's it going?"

He mumbled something - such a Terra thing to do when he's obsessed with getting something right. He twisted over his shoulder to give her the least bit of acknowledgment before going back to his work. "It's going," he repeated.

Aqua crept over his shoulder to see him overwork as he continued torturing himself with the details. "What are you aiming for?"

He sighed. "Merlin said lots of things, one of them being that if I actually _want _to put magic into the crystal, then I would have to give it my all."

She rolled her lips inward and shrugged. "I told you crystal activation was difficult."

"Mm."

"Why did you even start with this?" She stopped herself from asking, _Shouldn't you have chosen something easier? _

Terra took a moment, letting the sandpaper hang in his hand. "I asked for it."

"Why?"

"Because…" He searched the room, and when he found his answer, he didn't look at her. "I wanted to prove myself."

She murmured, "You're always pushing yourself so hard."

He nodded in return, and went back to his work.

"So how far did you come?" she asked.

Terra exhaled with frustration, and left the sandpaper on the workbench. "I can't get any of it right."

He had demanded to learn these lessons on his own only because his pride was on the line, and she wished she could tell him that she could be proud for him, just as he was, without embarrassing him.

But Aqua couldn't help herself. Seeing Terra this frustrated was entertaining.

"Do you want some tips?"

He rolled his eyes at her and studied her face. "...Sure."

With a pep in her step, she took one of his more polished pieces of crystal since it was more prepared to capture power than the raw ones. "Merlin teaches like a wizard, not like someone with a Keyblade." She twirled it in her hands. "Crystals are like permanent storage for magical commands, so he's correct that you'd have to give it more intent in order for it to activate, right?"

She held it up in the air to let the light flash on its surface. "Our Keyblades are an extension of our hearts. As children, we don't know what they're supposed to look like, not until we figure out who we are and begin to decide what we want for our lives. Then they take shape. They represent us, and take a solid form when we're asking and ready for the burden. It doesn't take from us, it becomes us.

"But foreign objects aren't like that. They don't have connections to our hearts, so we literally have to give a piece of it to them."

She paused. This was why she never performed such rituals. She needed her Keyblade completely whole, giving her all the freedom to perform magic however she wanted.

"Terra, you will literally cut your magic into tiny slices to put inside. Are you sure you want to do that?"

He shrugged one shoulder and answered, "Yes," like it was no big deal.

"Why?"

He took his crystal back, caressing it before going back to the polish. "Like I said, I need to prove myself."

"For what, though?"

He smirked, long breaths drawn out between words. "I've always thought that I was someone special because the Keyblade chose me. After what happened… if I may be honest… sometimes I wondered if it was really a blessing after all."

She hummed. It was all too familiar, more than she wanted to admit. "I had wondered the same thing."

"Well…" Something that had nothing to do with her drew a hopeful smile on his face. "I want to do something special again."

"Okay." That was as good of an answer as she was going to get.

With her approval, he beamed. It reached his eyes and for the first time Aqua grasped just how important this was to him, even if she didn't understand. In time, she figured she will.

For a moment she watched him buff the crystal with polish, his lips moving with silent words as he tried again and again to transfer a part of himself into its core. After too long, he decided he couldn't do it, but she didn't expect him to be able to succeed the first time.

"I can't wait to see what you'll do with it," she softly said when he tried for the last time.

It was exactly what he needed to hear, and he dropped his work, catching her gaze with gratitude in his tired smile. They stared at each other like that, his hands messy and hers leaning on the workbench, eyes taking in information that was familiar, like the color of their irises, and how they looked when they were happy and quiet and comfortable.

But her eyes took in new information too, as newly discovered tenderness churned in her belly the more she lingered into his pupils. She noticed lines in his irises that she had never noticed before.

His eyes flickered.

He gripped a fist to throw away his nervousness before wiping his hands with a rag. Then he cupped her face, and for a second Aqua prepared for something she'd been hoping for.

Terra took his other hand to brush through her hair, and she led an uneasy breath to steady. Maybe she was silly for wanting to touch his lips.

"I'm still no good at it, huh?" she asked, her heart screaming at her ears from how close he came.

"Not. At. All." He smirked to do away with his shaky breath, parting her hair the way he recognized her.

Ventus, however, was the master of worst timing, and he barged into the room like he had no idea how hard his best friends were struggling. "_There _you guys are. The sky is clear tonight."

Except he wasn't dumb. "If you could stop touching each other for at least an hour, maybe we could hang out and stargaze like we used to?"

Terra stammered. Terra let her go. Terra wiped his hands on his apron, and Aqua brought hers to her face to hide her blushing.

Ventus had reason: twelve years apart, and she'd never want to miss stargazing with her two best friends ever again.

They huddled at the front steps of the castle - Ven with Chirithy on his lap, and Terra by Aqua's side, leaning on one arm with a suggestive distance between the two of them.

The stars gave their blessings in a sky void of clouds, which was rare so high in the mountains. Hikes in the Realm of Darkness had left Aqua wishing for a night exactly like this.

"When I was asleep," Ven said. "I flew to the sky to reach them."

"Excuse me?" Aqua said.

"In Sora's reality." Despite how insane the subject matter sounded, Ven talked about it like they were at a simple dinner party. "Do you have any idea what kind of awesomeness I was doing in his brain?"

Terra snorted.

"One day, I was breathing underwater," Ven continued. "Then I was chasing rabbits. Another day, I was petting cute creatures. I played cards with monsters, and went to Halloween parties where I dressed up to look scarier, and I fought pirates and-"

"You mean Sora did all those things," Terra said.

"Well, yeah but… it seemed real to me."

He grinned and Aqua couldn't feel anything but grateful to Sora. It was the one reason why he wasn't as messed up as she was: Ven had plenty of reminders of what awaited for him when he woke up. He had hope. He had Sora, and there was no one better to spend twelve years with.

"I want to do the same one day," Ven said, his eyes locked on the stars above. "Have crazy fun adventures. Turn nightmares into dreams."

"Turn nightmares into dreams?" Chirithy asked, as if the concept was foreign.

"Sure." Ven leaned backward on both hands. "I want to be like Sora. I want to teach people that they don't have to stick to their fears, and that they can do whatever it is they want to do, especially if it changes their circumstances."

He turned to Terra and Aqua. "What do you think?"

Aqua was proud of him.

"Just don't disappear on us," Terra said, ruffling Ven's hair into a flattened heap of hay. "Or you're grounded."

"Worse will happen to you if you keep ruining my hair," he muttered, restyling his bangs.

Chirithy said nothing.

But as fast as Ven got excited, he retreated into reflection. He shifted uncomfortably on his step, and twiddled his fingers. He prepared a question that Aqua had been waiting for him to ask, but he never quite found the time or place to do so. Perhaps that perfect moment didn't exist.

"What was it like for you guys?"

She had spoken little of the Realm of Darkness. Refusing to stand in the dark or to look into mirrors gave her boys enough of an idea of what it was like, but she had described it in simple terms: lonely and sad.

Terra rubbed his chin, and Aqua really wanted to know about his experience. Since she never spoke about herself, she never asked him either.

"I was angry all the time if I wasn't crying," Terra said. "I couldn't see anything, and if I heard voices, I barely understood them."

All of them sat still, under stars that stopped guiding their hopes, even though they were free and safe now.

"I would see orbs sometimes," Terra continued. "Sometimes I got weird feelings, like I was going to die if I tried to fight it, and…"

He inhaled sharply like he said too much. "I begged a lot for it to stop," were his final words on the subject.

"I begged a lot, too," Aqua said. They looked at her now, almost leaning forward to listen for more. "I saw lots of different worlds, but they were empty. The environment would change for the purpose of getting me lost, and there was a lot of traveling with no one to talk to. That's if I wasn't fighting Heartless. Sometimes I wanted to disappear forever."

She thought about certain things, and never offered words on them. Instead, she said, "You know, sometimes I saw the both of you."

"For real?" Ven asked.

"Yeah." She rubbed the side of her neck, her other arm huddled around her knees. "Then you disappeared. Neither of you ever said anything, but I would talk to you anyway, pretending you could listen."

They stared at her.

She scoffed. "I know it sounds silly, me talking to myself."

"Not at all," Terra said. "Don't say that again." His voice quivered, and she expected him to apologize, but he wouldn't do that in front of Ven - that would upset the boy the most.

Ven fussed in heavy guilt, barely able to look at either at them. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

"There's no reason to feel bad, Ven," Terra said. "It's… about time we were open about this."

Ven nodded to himself, staring at grass. Neither of them had any idea how to move the conversation forward. Should they talk more about it? Should they change the subject?

Aqua didn't think she'd ask Terra for more information, just to spare him the agony of remembering it. Knowing Ventus, he probably would never breach the topic again because he cared about them too much.

There were things they'd never forget and perhaps those were conversations they would only have alone.

"I'm…" Ven started, and Aqua's heart didn't have the strength to witness his discomfort. "I think I'm going to get chocolate milk or something. Maybe some cookies? Anybody want some?"

Again, he still didn't look at them. He deserved some homemade cookies.

"Sounds delicious," Aqua said.

"You always make the best cookies," Ventus mumbled as he walked past them and up the steps, Chirithy trailing along. Those two were never apart, and sometimes Aqua wondered if her post-darkness existence could never suffice in comparison to the friend he used to have.

It made her feel awful, even though he never even implied the thought.

"Maybe it will get easier," Terra said, rubbing his forearm, glancing at the stars where he found no solace.

"You mean talking about it?"

"Sure. Maybe."

Silence, as quiet as the wind kissing the flowers, as stoney as the stars above them.

"I'm so sorry," Terra said.

"I told you before," she said, near a whisper, "I don't blame you, and I don't regret it."

"It sounded terrible."

"Yours did, too."

"Maybe. You're so strong, though. You'd be the only one out of any of us to survive it."

Again, a silence tight enough to burst.

And Aqua did burst. "I just wish you guys wouldn't-"

She stood up before she continued, about to walk back to the castle.

"Wouldn't what?" Terra asked behind her.

"Nothing, I was thinking out loud."

He stood up as well, following the few steps she took until they were equal. "If I made you uncomfortable at all-"

"No. You didn't. Don't worry." She hugged herself, her hands warming bare shoulders.

Terra frowned, leaning back from her for a second. "Aqua, didn't we agree not to hide things from each other anymore? To be more honest?"

"It's not what you think, Terra."

His eyes whimpered, pleading for her to rest his anxiety and the stars only knew what else he was blaming himself for in his mind.

Then he scoffed, wiping his cheek with his hand, letting himself smile his thoughts away. "Nevermind, I shouldn't be asking, all things considered."

"I just-" she started.

Terra was so close to her, within a hand's reach. Yet there was a wall between them, one she built out of bricks made of refusals and assumptions. If she was going to tear it down and let him finally step through, then she needed to commit. So Aqua steeled herself for the demolition.

"It's not true that I'm strong," she said, tears already making their entrance.

It shocked him. "You don't have to be so hard on yourself."

"Let me finish." She breathed hard, her heart wrenching and telling her to quit. "I fell, Terra. Darkness overtook me for a moment, before Riku and Sora found me."

"What?" he gasped, blood leaving his face. He had no idea. She was grateful Riku respected her privacy enough not to gossip. "Aqua, I'm… ugh." He held her by the arms, rubbing them, nearly about to embrace her but thought better of it. "I'm so sorry," he choked.

She couldn't expect there was anything appropriate to say.

"How did it happen?"

She flinched, and reminded herself that she committed.

It took some time before she spoke. Terra didn't press her and he didn't ask the question again. He only stayed still, waiting for her to talk.

"Xehanort's Heartless was there," she said.

Already, his tears dried up, his eyes widening. The hold on her arms slackened.

"And he summoned that… thing. The Guardian, I think is what it's called." Her voice was steady, detached from her body, like it abandoned her.

She didn't need to say anything more, what with the way Terra's breath thrashed.

He let go of her.

"That was you?" he rasped.

Then he yelled, stumbling on the steps when he walked backward away from her.

"Terra." She reached for him.

He recoiled, completely dodging her hands as he picked himself up on his legs and ran right into the castle doors before desperately grasping at their handles.

"Wait, Terra, it's fine."

"How can you say that," he wailed. "I-"

He stopped, his lips quivering. He tensed when she tried to step closer, keeping his arms within, with grips that strangled the door knob. She almost expected that he was about to punch his way through.

"I hurt you, and there's no forgiving that."

He slammed the door in her face, and she dragged it back out to follow him inside. "Please don't turn your back on me," she said softly enough that he wouldn't hear her. "Not again."

Yet Aqua stopped herself short, watching him storm down the hall until he turned right and disappeared around the corner. What he said pounded in her ears. The way he cried it spoke of damage, of humiliation, of hatred.

Not for her, he could never hate her. But she knew him too well, and she couldn't tell her body to stop crying at the thought that he hated himself so much.

"You okay?" Ven asked behind her. He had a plate with neatly stacked cookies in his hands, Chirithy riding his shoulders with both paws dug into his hair.

She looked away to wipe her eyes with her wrist.

"Yeah," she said, then rubbing the excess on her pants.

"It's a little late anyway for cookies," Ven said, his voice the only real presence in this empty entrance hall. "I'll turn off the lights, no big deal."

"Ven-"

"Cheers makes a good sleeping buddy if you want." He looked up, and Chirithy wiggled its snout affectionately, squeaking.

"No, but thank you." She said. She sounded dead. "I'm fine, really."

He pouted, but let her slide. "Holler if you need anything?"

"Okay." She clasped her hands together. "Thank you."

"I'm sorry, Aqua."

"Yeah."

Terra wasn't in the Master's office, and the hearth felt cool even though it was lit. Terra wasn't in the kitchen, drinking tea to soothe himself to sleep. He wasn't back in the workroom, throwing himself into his crystals to ignore everything around him. Nor was he in the training hall, sparring senseless.

She found him in his bedroom, his door locked. He sobbed, and his howling was muffled, as if he was letting it all go into his arms, rested on his table.

Aqua's chest caved into itself at the sound, making it hard for her to breathe.

She wanted to knock, to tell him that everything was okay. She was fine, she made it out of the Realm of Darkness and the past was the past. She wanted to ask him if he could help her bury it for good. The only thing separating them now was a thin block of wood.

But she did nothing, sneaking away from his door so he wouldn't hear that she knew.

She left him hoping and praying to the stars that Terra would tear the darkness out of his heart to throw away in those crystals for good, so they wouldn't be haunted by it anymore. She wanted him whole.

All that was left for her right now was her own bedroom, and she crept her door open just enough to stick her hand through and turn the light switch on. She peeked with one eye to make certain that her mirror was still covered.

It was only then that she entered, preparing herself for whatever chaos waited for her in sleep tonight.


	4. 4: guardian

Her eyes were crusted shut.

Aqua rubbed them open to the sunshine beaming through her curtains. She was sluggish, at best groggy and light. This was the sort of sensation that came with heavy sleep - not the restful kind, but not the fitful, either. Her bed was cold, and that fact made her ache in all the worst places.

She wasn't alone, though.

Chirithy watched her, casually standing on her nightstand as if waiting for eons.

"That was a sweet dream," it said, not as a question, neither as a statement. "Or should I say savory?"

She blushed.

"Cheers?" Aqua grumbled, pretending she didn't hear anything. The image of Terra grazing her thigh stayed on her mind, and she brought her hand to that same spot under the covers to see if it was indeed warm. It wasn't. She hid her disappointment.

It wasn't that spicy of a dream, but nothing she'd want Chirithy to see. A sea of stars in the dead of night, Terra by her side. He smirked. He chased her, and she ran so fast she flew, the grass blurring beneath her feet.

Despite that, he caught up. He grabbed her by the hips. He brushed his fingers against her skin, and he had nothing but smiles on his face, like bad news was something only good people wanted to hear. Like their argument last night never existed.

They floated and spun as if underwater, him holding her close by the waist, forehead to forehead. He looked up towards the sky. The star he plucked out was tiny, but it was bright, and he offered it as a gift.

"Well, you're _welcome_," Chirithy said, rubbing its snout, and she blushed to the point that she couldn't bear it.

Aqua thought to ask if Ven sent it over but she was distracted. Not having Terra's touch there now hurt more than she prepared for.

"Are you the only Chirithy in the castle?" she asked quietly, scared of the answer.

It perked its ears and cocked its head. "Of course I am. I would know if there were others."

The answer pleased Aqua, but it worried her. If she was hallucinating, then something was really wrong.

But Chirithy fumbled with its next words, growling like it was arguing with itself. She didn't think her question bore that much weight.

"Keybearers," it said, choosing its words carefully, "all have the capability to be with a Chirithy companion."

Aqua's heart punched violently. "Capability?"

"Not everyone can talk to their Chirithy, for their Chirithy needs to be physically made into this world," it said, again so tender with its words. It was like Aqua had put it into a compromising position, even though she knew better than to pry into its business.

Bile bubbled in Aqua's throat, and she swallowed it. "Do they all look the same?"

"Chirithy looks like whatever Chirithy is needed to look like."

She sighed. For what it's worth, she didn't want to get to know hers.

"I did you a tremendous favor," it said, paws on hips. It had meant to be sniding, but it came out weary. "I chose to help you last night because… well, it was easier than helping Terra."

A shiver crawled on her face. Aqua threw her covers over, and fixed her robe over her shoulders. She slept with it on. "Is he awake?"

"No," it scoffed. "He's lazy."

That didn't describe Terra despite how messy his room was. Aqua gracefully bolted out of her room, keeping her footsteps soft and light on the tile. Ven's door was already open. Most likely, he was in the kitchen.

Aqua tried the knob on Terra's door. It wasn't locked anymore.

Maybe he got up and never bothered to greet her.

No, he was asleep on his stomach, still in his clothes with his armor intact. His snores ground like an engine, sputtering grunts, and he strangled a pillow in his arms. His brows scrunched together, as though the dream had him in a headlock.

Two nights ago, when he had her in his arms, he smiled while he slept.

Chirithy strode its way through heaps of clothes scattered on the floor, worn and unworn, before hopping onto the bed and climbing onto Terra's shoulders.

It poked him at the cranium. "Wake up." When he didn't stir, Chirithy tried again. "You're such a bum, get up."

Aqua didn't dare come close, clutched under a feeling that she was trespassing.

Terra snarled from the prodding. His eyes snapped open and his pillow crumpled under his fists. Looking over his shoulder, his gaze only hardened.

He grabbed Chirithy by the face and buried it into the mattress, throwing all the sheets into knots in a fury. Once finished, he rubbed his face as the tension left his body.

It was time to leave, but Aqua watched Terra lug his legs over the edge of the bed and hang his head. Chirithy rustled under the bedsheets, getting lost in looking for a way out and squeaking for mercy after it had been given.

Terra didn't say anything, but he knew she was there. He glanced everywhere around his room: his dusty nightstand, his open dresser, his covered mirror. Everywhere but her.

If she left, she'd spare him worse. His eyes were puffy and red from hours of crying. The more he realized he wasn't dreaming anymore, the more he grew defeated, as though he was convicted and was meekly waiting for his sentence. He repressed some shivering but did a poor job of it.

Aqua had her hand to her mouth and only realized it now. She removed it to speak.

"I'm late," Terra said, his voice grainy.

He dragged himself into his bathroom. Aqua stood her place, listening to the water gushing from the sink. He was washing his face. She tried to think of something to say, but her mind was blank. She wanted to shrink as small as possible, just so she wasn't invading his space.

Terra stepped out and went straight for his shoes, one tossed upside down. Then he aimed for his satchel, closing the flap over his unfinished crystals.

All that was left was for him to exit, without saying a word or looking at her.

"Terra?" she gasped, her fist to her heart. It hurt to breathe.

He stopped, and finally looked at her with his red-rimmed eyes. Whenever he cried, his deep blue irises looked dead, like waste at the bottom of the sea floor. They were panicked, and his legs trembled, like it took all the grit he had to face her.

Without a word, he hugged her with one arm - tightly, crushing her against his chest. He smelled not of soap, not of sweat, but of himself, something earthy and baked in yeast.

He let go. He left, his shoulders turning over his doorway. It all happened so fast, and she couldn't hear her heart beating. It was possible it stopped, and the only thing keeping her alive was the hope he would turn back.

Chirithy found its way out of the labyrinth of overturned sheets. Instead of muttering about how rude Terra was, it opted to take a moment of silence.

The best thing to do, the only thing left for her to do, was simply to live the day like it was second nature. Aqua performed rhythmically and cooked breakfast like normal, not registering anything between cracking the eggs and serving them to Ven.

She gathered books from a specific section in the library about dreams, but didn't read more than their titles. All she thought about was Terra's shoulders disappearing.

She repeated words to herself, words that spoke of why the past didn't matter now that they had a future to look forward to, words that would make it all okay whenever Terra eventually came home at sundown.

But he never did. He wouldn't for days.

* * *

Aqua brewed flavorless tea. She stopped caring about brushing her hair, and while she thought about seeking some new adventure in a world she'd never seen, Aqua wasn't ready to close all doors yet. She always left one open for Terra. She hoped he knew.

She trudged through her days with practice, like getting her smile right so Ven wouldn't worry. Her saving grace was staying busy, and she found her biggest challenge in establishing the Land of Departure as a school for new Keyblade wielders.

There was a lot riding on her shoulders now: choosing which books to assign, scheduling a strict list of combat techniques based on rank, and organizing an entire curriculum of political science, astronomy, and history that her Master subjected them to years ago. She burned hours planning chapters, assignments, discussion topics...

And then some. She had no idea if Darkness should be taught formally in her classrooms. There wasn't a single book about it in the library except for a witnessed history of demons of the past, before Heartless and Unversed.

Sitting at her vanity table, her curtains drawn to let the sunlight in, Aqua held an unappreciated copy of _Affairs of the Heart_ by the Master of Masters, and wondered if it was worth the misery of assigning. She wondered what Terra thought about it. She wondered how often Terra thought about her. Against her better judgment, she missed him every hour.

Ven knocked on her door even though it was ajar. Chirithy rode on his shoulders, paws in his hair.

"Everything is finally done," he sighed, and counted on his fingers. "The new small library is set up and ready to go; I made every bed in the eastern wing - and _very neatly_ like you asked; we now have three classrooms instead of two; _and_ I emptied some of the lounges so they can be renovated into studios for private practice."

He had shallow bags under his eyes and a tired smirk. "If you ask me to move one more piece of furniture, I swear I will dye your hair black."

"Well, I did realize an hour ago that we need a cafeteria," Aqua hummed.

His face fell.

"I'm joking, Ven."

"Don't test me." He looked over her shoulder at her detailed plans, spotting the aforementioned book and glowering. "No. Not that one."

Chirithy hopped onto her desk, and Aqua straightened her posture. Ever since that particular morning, she aimed to seem as professional as possible. It stood next to a piece of parchment with a list of considered texts. _Affairs of the Heart _had a question mark next to its title.

"These are the most important teachings," it said.

"She should cross it off and pretend it never existed." When Aqua didn't, Ven scowled. "Don't you want your new students to like you? Why torture them with it?"

Because it was the root of all theory relating to Keyblades and hearts. Because that was where all books written since had started. Looking back on it now, maybe only half of it was relevant, and its archaic language made it a drag… but it still felt wrong to act like it was useless.

"I won't assign the entire thing," she said, bringing her hand up to swear in honor. She had to admit, it was entertaining to see how deeply disturbed he was about this.

"If Terra was here, it'd be a tie."

Aqua's heart plummeted, and the sight of it softened Ven.

"...How is Terra?" she managed to ask.

Apparently, he found living arrangements - between Radiant Garden and Twilight Town, living with Riku and Isa. Aqua heard through the grapevine.

"He's fine," Ven drawled, a question of _Why don't you ask him?_ patiently sitting in the weight of his voice. Pulling his Gummiphone out of his pocket, Ven scrolled through some photos, handing it over when he found what he was looking for.

In the picture, a penitent Terra tried to comfort Merlin, who lurched backward with a bulging, frozen expression of shock and anguish at the bursts of fire that gripped his long, white beard. It was taken at the worst time, capturing everyone at bad angles.

Ven chortled. "It was an accident. He was trying to get those crystals to work."

"Those crystals-"

Ven waved his hands at her dismissively. "Whatever you think they are, trust me, they aren't."

It pained her to see how much he knew that she didn't.

When she didn't laugh with him, Ven gently put the Gummiphone away. "Don't you ever send him messages?"

"I did."

He gaped at her.

"Terra doesn't always answer. When he does, he says he's fine," she continued.

He rolled his eyes.

"All I did was ask how he was doing," she finished.

"You know Terra is kind of an idiot." Ven palmed his face. "He reads too much into things."

"I made sure I didn't push it. I don't want to ruin his peace."

"Maybe that's exactly why he's being distant. Maybe he thinks you're better off without him."

"Did... Did he say anything to you?"

"You mean about the night before he left? No. Nothing."

So there were still things Ven didn't know. Had it always been like this, where two held onto something the third didn't belong to?

Aqua nearly said something about it, but shut Ven outside that particular door.

"It's not really a big deal," she said.

"You're lying-"

"I'm not."

"To yourself," he said, swallowing hard. Twelve years ago, he struggled to face her directly when he was afraid of offending her. He glanced at her vanity mirror, covered by a dull, white sheet because Aqua never took it off even to wash.

She hated how much it nerved him to be honest with her.

Chirithy replied without prompt, "Go on, Ven." Only around Ven did it sound that cute and sweet. "Tell her what you've been thinking about."

With that, Ven rummaged through her top drawer and pulled out a hairbrush. "I don't have the same mind-reading grace Terra has with you, so can I stick my neck out here and ask if _I _can take care of you for a little bit?"

She huffed, closing her eyes.

"You'll feel better afterwards," he continued, flipping the brush in his hand like it was a toy. "I want to make you feel better, I just don't know how." He almost whispered, "I want to be a good friend now that Terra's not here."

He said all the words that made her want to vehemently deny she needed any help, and nearly kicked him out of her room. He said he wanted to be a good friend, and he _always, always_ was when she needed him to be. How could he think he was useless?

Wordlessly, she straightened out in her chair and brought her hands to her lap. Ven was a bit too excited.

The brush caught several knots, really sticking to the back of her head. Ven tried to be careful, but it stung anyway.

Aqua had lost count of the days she decided to let it all go. Ven never said a word about her condition or her appearance, letting her spar with him and make commands about the future of their home without questioning her sanity.

If Terra was here, he'd tell her he was proud, and the thought wretched at her insides. Again, she remembered his shoulders, walking away.

"Terra is still your friend," Chirithy chirped up, surprising her. "He can't forget that. It's his duty as Keyblade wielder to remember his friends and stand by them."

Ven snorted. "Terra and Aqua are so much more than that."

Aqua blushed, her breath shutting to a halt. She quickly shook her head. "He's exaggerating-"

"Did you know they're married?" Ven asked Chirithy.

"_We are not_. Where did you get a crazy idea like that?"

She turned her head to glare at him but he held it steady. She expected him to say something embarrassing like, _Have you seen the way you act around each other?_ Or, _You bicker like you are. _

But he said, "Terra told me."

If this was supposed to be funny, it wasn't clever. "When did he say this?"

"Shortly after I started talking again."

Ven had to have been eleven. "Clearly, he was joking around with you."

"No, he wasn't. He was totally serious!" Ven continued his brushing, hiccuping on a laugh. "He made me promise not to say anything because the Master didn't even know."

"A secret marriage," Chirithy pondered. "That's quite a bond like no other."

Ven guffawed.

Aqua held a finger up, and the entire room quieted, leaning in as if anticipating doctrine from her hand. She was at a loss for words. Of course she and Terra shared a close, unbreakable bond, but this was the wrong idea.

"That's a little inaccurate," she started.

"So it's true?!" Ven stopped brushing.

"No, we were children."

"Huh?"

"We used to make believe we were adults sometimes, and pretended all sorts of things, like running a store, or being at war," she said, melting into chuckles. The memories came to her like a bedtime story, vivid and warm. "I was maybe eight years old."

Ven put down the brush on her table. "So because adults got married, it made for good role play?"

"Exactly. It wasn't real." She remembered the awning weaved of loose sticks in the woods. He wore a black cotton shirt and she didn't have a white dress, but a cream one. She had one wildflower in her hair, and a bouquet of pretty weeds. "We exchanged plastic rings I had as toys," she laughed, "and we thought the kiss was disgusting."

Terra had blown raspberries and spit slobber into the dirt, sticking his tongue out. She had wiped her mouth with her forearm, wincing. Neither of them understood why adults thought it was a good idea.

"I bet he wouldn't think that now," Ven said and dodged her elbow.

Chirithy held a paw to its chin. "Did you exchange vows?" it asked, and Ven sniggered.

"We took a book from the library and read off of that," she said, like it was the most logical thing they could have done.

"That makes it official," said Ven.

"I agree," said Chirithy.

"I bet it was her idea."

Aqua swallowed, and held her chin high. "I don't remember," she lied.

Ven scoffed. "I think Terra still considers you his wife, and I don't know anyone who would object to that."

If that was true… Aqua wasn't sure she'd object to that so openly, either. She focused on the grooves on the wood of her desk, willing away the heat in her cheeks.

"What do you think?" Ven asked Chirithy of her hair. A change of subject couldn't come quickly enough.

"She looks better already," it said bluntly.

"Cheers, don't be rude," said Ven, but his voice quavered with giggles.

"Well, you do," Chirithy said to Aqua, like she needed the reassurance.

Aqua shifted in her seat. She didn't appreciate being spoken to like she needed a description of herself.

It would be such a simple gesture to tug the sheet down, and shake off the dust.

Ven moved over to her side with a pep to his step, grabbing a chunk of her hair. "Can you teach me how to do braids?"

"Oh, my hair is a bit short for that..." She stopped. She couldn't disappoint such an eager face. "Well, you split the portion into three parts. You cross one - doesn't matter which one - over the middle. Then you take the opposite side and cross it over the middle. And you keep going. That's it."

Ven bit his tongue as he worked, staring holes as he pulled at her hair to his eyes, following her instructions too deliberately. She never noticed it before, but Ven enjoyed fussing over her.

"I've played with dolls before," Ven said, "but this is more fun."

Aqua's nostrils flared over the comparison. A smile on his face was worth it, she told herself.

"I need practice," he mumbled, opening her drawer to pull a white ribbon out and tie it off. He grabbed another chunk of hair behind her head.

She wished she could see what he was doing. Ven always smiled with such feverish enthusiasm that it was contagious. She tried to crane her neck and use her peripheral vision, but he nagged at her to stay in place.

"I'll take a pic when I'm done," he said, pulling a red ribbon out of her drawer.

Aqua gripped her fists. This was getting a bit much, being treated like she was delicate and volatile.

Her boys acted like freedom was such an easy thing to grasp. Tapping her fingers on her desk, she trepidly reached over and grabbed the sheet over her mirror.

"Aqua?"

She let go. Trying too much too fast was probably a bad idea.

She wondered what they assumed. They handled her quirks with such nervous anticipation, it exhausted her to watch them tread on eggshells so much.

"Sorry," she sighed, crossing her legs and arms, lacing that desperate need to keep composed all the way to the crown of her head. It wasn't necessary to worry him so much.

Ven stopped his braiding anyway, and she waited long enough for him to get the idea and continue.

She said, "That was dumb of me. There's no telling what it would do."

"What would _what_ do?" Ven asked with a nervous shiver. She couldn't tell if Chirithy was even hearing the conversation.

"My reflection."

Ven paused before remembering the black ribbon pinched in his fingers.

Aqua had to scoff at herself. "The Realm of Darkness-" Where should she start?

Ven listened, twisting and tugging.

"My reflection would… say things."

"Was she scary?" he asked in a voice so soft, it was like a small hug.

Aqua didn't know how to answer that. Fighting an enemy was always a risk, but the high she experienced when she won was addicting, and made it easy to pursue perfection in the battlefield.

They were all raised to brave the onslaught, but real bravery was listening to herself whisper terrible truths and keeping faith on the contrary.

"She was strong," Aqua said. "She was everything about me, but worse."

"So would a piece of cotton stop her from crashing in here and killing us all?" Chirithy asked, lordly tugging at the sheet and letting it go. Ven inhaled sharply.

"It wouldn't. I _know_ it wouldn't, I _know_." Aqua splayed her hands at her desk. Being so afraid of something that didn't exist anymore was nothing to be proud of. And she reminded herself of this so many times, how could they not see that?

Ven used green to seal a braid, before gently taking another sliver of hair over her other ear.

"Don't hate me for asking, but," Ven said, weaving weakly so that this one limped, "does she still hurt you?"

"Sometimes." It sounded false coming out of her mouth. She didn't mention the nights she listened to _tap tap tap_ on glass, or to scratching when she didn't reply.

"Then I should beat her up," Ven said with a tough edge to his voice, wrapping this last braid with lavender.

Aqua let a half-smirk hang on her face. "That's the easy part."

"I'm not intimidated." He had fists on his hips, puffing his chest out like he was supposed to imitate Terra or something.

Was he trying to humor her?

She played along well so far, might as well continue. "Good. We'll be together. It won't be so bad this time."

Encouraged, Ven grabbed a fistful of the sheet, waiting for her signal. "Just say the word. We got this."

Her heart skipped a beat. This was too fast. She nearly followed instinct and yanked his hand away but stopped the moment she choked on a sob. Ven was earnest, the same glint in his eye every time he dared them to a duel, even when he suspected he'd lose.

It didn't matter if they both knew there was nothing on the other side, he was ready to fight with her.

After two long, shaky breaths, Aqua glared at the fabric. Grabbed a handful of her own, and threw it off.

She didn't blink. She didn't look away - that was most dangerous when facing an enemy. The moment she met herself face to face, she gasped, blue eyes on blue eyes, the same dark circles, the same upward curl of her brows, the same exhale that melted into hot tears that birthed the tiniest laugh.

Ven gesticulated at the reflection, giving it a grand entrance. "What is this? I was expecting a real challenge, but she looks ridiculous."

She really did look like she was trying to be a clown with all the mismatched ribbons. The braid that stuck out from behind one ear was thicker than her finger, pulling at her scalp. The other limped like a rat's tail. Touching the back of her head, she felt a lumpy one that was uneven, another short and stocky, and the fifth one curved and twisted.

Part of her wondered if this was Ven's plan all along, but he didn't have that kind of foresight.

Didn't matter, she never felt this marvelous in front of a mirror before.

"Thank you, Ven," she whispered, the joy she felt suddenly whiplashing into more tears. The taste of freedom was salty.

Ven hugged her around the shoulders, his cheek to hers, his tears cold. Aqua gripped his arms, prompting him to hold her tighter. Neither of their counterparts moved a muscle they weren't supposed to, smudge-free.

"Glad you're back," Ven sniffed, and she nodded.

Even Chirithy was moved. "Turning nightmares into dreams," it said to itself, nuzzling its snout.

"Come here, Cheers," Ven said, rubbing his eyes with his forearms. "Your Gummiphone, Aqua?"

It was in her pocket. Ven opened it, swiping his thumb all sorts of directions.

"I promised a picture." With Chirithy taking its place on Aqua's left side, Ven pointed the camera directly at the mirror and leaned toward her right. "Everybody smile."

For him, smiling came natural. Aqua thought she looked so weird - was it the smile that changed, or did she forget what she looked like?

If anything, she looked tired, her braids drooping more by the second.

Ven handed the Gummiphone back. "You should send it to Terra."

It sounded closer to a command than a wink or a nudge in the right direction. Aqua kept her mouth shut. She had no idea what to write.

Throwing himself onto her bed, Ven stared at her ceiling and went quiet, as if he was giving her space. Chirithy soon joined him, charging onto his stomach and into his trusting arms with squeaks and giggles.

Aqua opened her phone to their last messages, and stared. There was no proper follow up she could think of from their short mutual archive.

From two weeks ago, just after he left:

**Aqua**

_I don't know how to fix this_

_Come home and we could talk about it?_

_Please_

Five days ago:

**Aqua**

_I want you to know that I'm not angry with you_

_Okay? I just want you to know_

_Please hear me_

The day after:

**Aqua**

_I'm worried about you_

Finally, he responded:

**Terra**

_Working with the others dont worry_

_They know to call you if something happens_

Attaching Ven's picture to an empty message, Aqua hovered her fingers over the keys on the screen. She didn't want to beg for his attention.

**Aqua**

_Made some strides today_

She sent it with the picture. It still felt like begging.

Long minutes passed. She knew not to expect anything; he was probably talking to someone else, or spending time alone absorbed in that crystal project.

She knew to swallow and set the phone down. She knew that hearing nothing could have meant many things, but her heart sank anyway, withstanding the pressure of ten oceans from the mere thought of bothering him.

Then a ting, and Ven stood up, his eyebrows energized by the signal of a message incoming.

**Terra**

_Good look for you_

She stared wide-eyed at the screen. The words sounded normal. But was he just as nervous as she was? Was he trying to make her feel better at his expense? Without looking into his eyes, it was so hard to tell.

**Aqua**

_Think I should keep it?_

**Terra**

_absolutely_

That was the end of that conversation.

* * *

Night rain streaked her window. It was the only indication that she was still home, in her real bedroom, in front of a real mirror, and she depended on it to last a while.

Naked and with smoothly brushed hair, Aqua studied her skin. The Realm of Darkness preserved her. The scruffs on her arms were from distant years of training. Whatever hordes of Heartless trashed on her no longer left a reminder, as if the last twelve years never existed, except in her mind.

That was the only difference: her face. Darkness left its only mark there.

Aqua twerked her lips and narrowed her eyes; there was no way a menacing enemy would make funny faces like this. Her face was still hers.

Her eyes were still blue, but there was an empty, faraway look that she couldn't bring back.

Her smile was still warm, but it strained with the weight of a ton.

Did she look like this every single day? No wonder her boys expressed concern.

She didn't know how to fix it. Slowly, she pulled on shorts and a simple shirt for the night. Her reflection looked tired - not tired from a whole day spent, but tired like she was done.

Aqua braved one final test: waving at herself. It was foolish to beckon something so dangerous, but she had a strong Keyblade, and a stronger need to make sure.

Her reflection waved back, just as frightened.

Still, there was a tiny, weary gasp in her heart that stayed suspicious. Sighing, Aqua draped a clean sheet over it, and cast Reflega. Like locking the front door to ward off strangers, it was a small and life-saving measure.

A knock on her door.

She was ready to explain her decision to Ven when she opened it, but she had to look up.

"Terra," she breathed, her heart in her throat.

He was still dressed but barefoot, leaning on her door frame with his face half-hidden behind the wall. Eyes on the floor, he raised them to her shoulder, a well-worn frown on his face.

"I'm ready to talk."

She wanted to throw her arms around him. She wanted to shake him senseless. She wanted to slap his face.

But Aqua had to smile. In her opinion, she couldn't control the way it stretched to her eyes and made her cheeks throb. "Of course. Please." She opened the door further to allow him to step through, then closed it.

Terra gazed around the room with his arms crossed, finding a belittled spot for himself as he leaned onto her vanity table. He caught sight of _Affairs of the Heart_, and it brought a chuckle to his throat.

Aqua stood across from him, hands to her chest to keep her heart in place. "Brings back memories, doesn't it?"

He shook his head as he inspected the front and back cover. "Stupid book," he muttered.

"No argument here."

He didn't return the nostalgia in her voice. He kept his gaze low, cradling the book in his large hands and spinning pages. "Sometimes, I thought about this book and how it said we needed to balance our vulnerability to be strong."

"Yes." She fiddled with her fingers. Talking about this book was the last thing she wanted or expected, but if that was a way to get him comfortable, so be it. "How we should wield the Light to illuminate the way forward if we ever wanted to free it from the Darkness."

"No." His shoulders swelled with confidence in picking at her words, like they were back in the classroom. The Terra she knew crept into his eyes inch by inch. "The point was to illuminate the pain inflicted into our hearts from the past. It wasn't about freeing it. It was about living with it."

That was nothing like what the Master taught them, even though the Aqua of today agreed with that statement.

"I think you're mistaken," she said, crossing her arms. "The pain of our past is only made of Darkness, and prioritizing the Light over what had a hold on us proved our strength."

"It didn't say that. I think this whole book was really a misdirection." The more he spoke, the more invested he became. "Our ability to make Light out of our past was the only way to see through the Darkness coming at us."

"Are you sure you and I read the same book?"

The challenge encouraged him, and she smirked. They were falling into their natural groove, something embedded deep within their understructure that couldn't be torn down. Aqua found comfort in that.

"I'm going to find the passage," he said, scanning with his finger, "and when I do, I'll rub your face in it."

He finally locked eyes with her, his laugh meek and intimidated. Then the realization took over: they were not living the joy of yesterday.

Aqua, too, lost her resolve to keep her smile plastered to her face.

They were only a few paces apart, but the wall between them spread for miles.

"I've missed you," she said.

"I've missed you, too." He let go of whatever kept him calm, a dam near bursting. "You have no idea how much."

Her mouth hung open. He surprised her with such vulnerability, and she never thought that he'd be the braver one between the two. She wanted to tell him that she missed him more, and one-up him every time he tried to beat her at her own game. But three words stayed where they were, buried in her chest.

Terra leaned back, taking notice of her ceiling. He shook his head once. He shook it again and he choked. "This is harder than those damn crystals."

Aqua stepped next to him, brushing the pads of her fingers against the wood of her table. She listened.

"I don't know where to start," he continued. He curled one fist, the other hand not sure whether to grab at his face or hit something. "I don't know how to explain what exactly happened between us."

She spoke to him the only way she knew how when he was like this: by lifting his spirits. "Remember when the Master used to tell us to put our heads together when we were stumped?"

His groan wrestled a chuckle. "How long has it been since we've tried that?"

"I was probably ten so…" Only a solemn truth came to mind. "Twenty years ago."

Terra let out a long, slow exhale, brushing his hair back.

Aqua held his elbow, and there was the faintest trace of a flinch. "You want to try?"

To know someone for so many years meant she could recognize the lowering of his defenses the minute she asked. He was tempted to raise them back up, and he battled with himself.

"Sure."

She led the way to her mattress, and they faced each other cross-legged, his hands on his lap before taking hers. They brought their foreheads together. Aqua hoped that this way, they would finally tear that wall between them, brick by brick; they only needed to know which one to pull out first.

He smelled of foreign shampoo, sharp like citrus instead of the alluring musk he preferred. His lashes were so long, they grazed his cheekbones, and his eyes darted in all directions, finding her, her lips, her window, her carpet.

"Close your eyes," she whispered, her breath rustling through his bangs. He'd feel more comfortable that way.

For a while, they brought the silence to a standstill. She thought about questions she could ask, and he thought hard, trembling.

His breathing became ragged, his nostrils flaring in and out. His voice shattered. "I don't know how you can stand to be around me."

Such a statement ravaged her. She fought back her tears - she shouldn't have expected anything less from Terra.

She had to start the conversation for both of their sakes.

"Why?" she gasped. "Why did the Guardian attack me?"

"I was following orders." He shrunk away, and she held him firmly. "No, no, that sounds awful."

"Terra…" The lump in her throat was a warning; she was going to fall apart and when she did, he would tumble all the way down.

"I- I…" He licked his lips. "I spent so long - only the _stars_ know for how long - sitting in the Darkness. There was _nothing_, you know? _Nothing_. When I finally heard a voice, I asked him - I begged him - to help me."

She clenched every muscle in her body. She couldn't fall apart.

Terra continued, "And he had answers for me. He said if I could take enough Light, I could free myself… I just didn't know what that meant.

"Most of the time, I didn't know where I was. It wasn't like I could see anything. Sometimes I heard other voices, and their presence made me hesitate. But when I did, he'd lash back at me for not obeying. I can't describe it, I was being sliced at my fingertips by something on fire, or...

"I don't know, Aqua. I was exhausted all the time." He lost half of his voice, his eyelashes chunky of the tears cascading down his face before dropping onto his lap.

He went on, "And I was angry. Nothing worked. Anytime I had Light in my grasp, it never helped. Everything I knew about the Light, I started to question. Why did it abandon me? Looking at it infuriated me, and sometimes I went after it without having to be commanded, which pleased him… only to end up empty-handed and dejected for all my efforts. Sometimes I went after myself to repent to the Light, and it never replied." Terra gave a hollow, sickly chortle. "That pleased him just as much. Nothing I did was ever enough, and I stayed being his houndog.

"I thought maybe if I was angry enough, if I hated myself enough, I could gather enough Darkness and turn on him," he sobbed. "But every time I cursed my own stupid mistakes, he had a stronger hold on me. Every time I fought back, I was set on fire. If I screamed, I had a needle and thread ready to sew my own mouth shut. I can't tell if he actually made me punish myself or if it was him all along. It became easier to listen to him than to fight.

"But you…" He took a breath. "I didn't know, I'm so sorry."

With her thumbs, Aqua rubbed circles into his palms. "What did you see?" she asked softly, afraid that if she asked too loud, it would scare him into a frenzy.

He trembled.

"It's okay," she said. "Please."

"A bright light, the brightest I've ever seen. I thought this time, surely, it would all be over, if I could just have it."

He exhaled before he continued, "I knew something was wrong the moment I tried to hold it."

With that, he finished. He had an urge to pull away, his teeth locked and holding more sobs in.

Her hands squeezed his. He didn't have to be afraid of what she had to say.

"I don't blame you for this, Terra."

A sharp inhale. "Why not?"

"Because I understand what it's like-"

"Because of _me_."

"You have to listen to me." She pulled apart from him and held his face, staring hard at his red and swollen eyes. "I watched you break those chains. I _watched_ you pull apart those bindings, and tell Xehanort that you'd protect us."

She shook his stunned face to make sure he got the message, and continued, "I couldn't do better. I needed Sora to beat me on the head with his Keyblade before I could let go. He did everything for me."

Aqua hated this. She only ever thought of falling apart as something that left her vulnerable to a predator.

"When I was under," she said, leveling her voice because she was going to pick herself up, whether her body produced a waterfall of tears or not, dammit. "I wanted Riku and Sora to feel every single ounce of loneliness that I felt. I didn't care about their feelings or if they hurt - it wouldn't have compared to what I went through. I was ready to pull them by their hair strands and drag them into the ocean. No one understood what it was like, and I needed someone to _know_. I needed someone to _listen_ to me."

She scoffed with the taste of something poisonous, and said, "What would the Master have said about me? I only held myself up because I thought I was worthy enough. He deemed me so. I couldn't be weak and let go, but standing tall left me wobbling any time I was breaking… If it wasn't the Guardian, it could have been something else. It could have been _me_. I thought about giving up so often.

"Going under finally gave me an outing I denied myself, to let it all out. I didn't think I could stoop that low, but I was angry, too. There was no reason I had to suffer that much for that long… How dare they waltz in on me when it was already too late."

Terra gaped. "That doesn't sound like you," he whispered.

"Ha," she tisked. "Using me for your own gain - hurting me at all - doesn't sound like you, either. You're gentle, Terra. You strut like you could break marble, and maybe you could, but you couldn't truly hurt me in your right mind. You'd never. I believe that. There's nothing for me to do but to know that."

He looked away. "Aqua…"

"I'm Keeper of the castle because of tradition." She stroked his face. "But the Master asked _you_ to look after us."

He winced. "I'm not the favorite-"

"It's not about that." She gripped his shirt with her fists. "It's because of your heart, Terra. You know that, you know it deep in your soul.

"And if you don't know it," she stabbed at his chest with her finger, "I'll _make_ you know it. Your sweetness, your need to protect: it's the only reason why you breathe. I know this because everything you've ever done - even if it was down the wrong path, even if it was undeniably stupid - it was to help us."

When she unraveled, she let loose an avalanche, weakly beating his shoulder with a fist.

It was Terra's turn to hold her face, wiping her tears with the back of his fingers, again and again. They wouldn't stop; she didn't know how. Everything about this felt like she snapped a bunch of wires that held her up.

"You survived," he said softly, shushing her weeping. "You can't put all that strength onto my shoulders when you were the one who carried Ven home. In a twisted way, you carried me to safety, too. There was no way I could have made it in the Realm of Darkness. You're the strongest one. Always."

She sobbed. Her nose was so stuffy, she couldn't breathe. All the bricks were undone.

Aqua threw her arms around his neck. They were buttresses on wood rot, shakily propping up whatever was left of each other. Every once in a while, they gasped for breath like their bodies had neglected the tears, but together they endured, waiting until their emotional intoxication dried out.

"I survived to get my family back, my home," she said in broken pants into his shirt. "But I can't have that if you're gone."

Aqua now wanted to rebuild, but instead of between them, around them. A shelter.

He heard her this time, and though she hated to let him stray an inch farther from her, he pulled away to ask, "Can I stay here?"

Nothing taught her that it was possible to smile with so much guilt. He would've had better sleep where he stayed, in a sound, dark room. "The lights…"

He rubbed her arms. The growing smile on his face, though it sprouted slowly, was genuine. "You did good with the mirror earlier."

She paused, unable to look at him. "I spent so long in the Realm of Darkness, I don't know how much of me is still there. I don't think there is anyone or anything who knows me better now. I can't tell what's in a shadow." Or where that other Chirithy was, she thought. "They're in every room, and the bigger the room, the deeper they spread. What if they're waiting to claw me back down?"

She shivered. She sounded crazy.

"Let me do something for you." When she started to reject him, he leaned forward and reiterated, "Please. I have to make amends."

"Terra, that's not necessary."

One look told her that he wouldn't relent.

A sinking feeling deep down knew he was going to throw himself into a lifetime of atonement, and she didn't want to be the harbinger of such a fate. But if she wanted to build a new foundation with him, she'd have to let him go for a little while, and stop him before it went too far.

"Okay."

His final line of defense melted. "I'll be back."

When he left, the room had nothing but a soft rumble of thunder from far away. Aqua wiped her face and raked her hair with her fingers, straightening out her shirt. She had enough of unraveling for the night.

When he came back, he brought with him the shuffling sound of something heavy and the clinking of metal dragging on the tile.

He threw a bundle of fabric on her and she yelped, searching her bed underneath for shadows now that she was blocked from both her ceiling light and her table lamp.

She could see well enough. She was safe.

"What are you supposed to be doing?" she asked.

"You'll see." There was a tease in his words. He was slowly going back to normal.

It was a tent. Setting it upright by tying rope at the peak, Terra stood on her mattress; the only thing he could attach it to was her ceiling fan.

Then he crawled around her and tied the ends to the four corners of her bedpost, stuffing them with pillows to make walls out of them, giving her plenty of room to stretch out her legs. The opening flaps of the tent hung against the wall to her window.

He meant to make her space smaller, and she had to admit the filter from the sharp glare of her ceiling light was already coaxing.

When what became a formidable pillow fort was finished, Terra pushed through the fabric from the outside, ruffling her hair.

"I'm going to turn off the light," he said clearly. Feeling her jerk, he said, "We'll keep the lamp on your nightstand on. That should be enough to let you see."

She didn't say anything in return. He waited, anticipating permission to continue.

"If it's too dark," he said, "I'll turn it back on."

"'Kay."

She held her breath as his footsteps shuffled across, gripping her sheets and on the edge of calling her Keyblade for the dreadful sound of her light switch flicking.

There it went. Aqua whirled around for something Dark creeping in. But everything in her tent existed as they should in the presence of soft light. The sheets folded in twirls, and the wood of her bed posts was exposed by complicated knots. She was fine. There was a swooshing sound and a rush of beams as Terra conjured a Reflega over her bedroom door.

Again, the fabric bent inward. Terra took his time before touching her hair to let her know it was him.

He crawled under the back wall of the tent that faced him, a pleased smile on his face. "What do you think?"

"Job well done." Her lips were dry. She loved him.

"I think you'll sleep much better this way."

"... I feel so silly."

"Nah. You're just a handful."

"There's nothing between us and… everything else."

"Are you talking about the shadows?" That smug look she missed so much made its appearance. It was strange to think such a dazzling smile was meant for her. "They'll have to go through me first."

She was aware of his hand on her thigh, warm and gentle. With it, he pulled her towards the bed, tucking her in. Leaning on his elbow, Terra held her closer by the waist, which rattled the thumping in her chest just as hard as she expected.

Yet it brought her solace. She was home.

"I hate to nag on your hard work-" she started.

"You nag anyway."

"But you built it backwards."

"Nope." The hand on her waist left her, to her disappointment, and pulled the opening over her window. The glass was blurred by water. "In case you want to look at the stars before you slept."

After all the crying she had today, it was easy to have a go again. She almost did, watching his faraway look over the clouds that made up the night sky tonight. His jaw was always this strong, his hair always an impeccable mess.

"I love you."

Terra came back to her, his eyes too dark to be blue in such dim lighting. He traced her jaw with his finger, and now she had a sudden electricity at her core, begging to ask him to touch her.

He wasn't even shaken by her words.

She questioned him with a look. As he brushed her hair out her face and inched closer, he flashed an embarrassed smirk.

"There's no way I could deny that," he said, that faraway look coming back, but boring into her. "You plunged into darkness for me."

Aqua swallowed her heart back in.

"When I said that you've never stopped lighting my way back," he continued, "I meant it. There was this tiny, little light that I was never able to touch, but it stayed with me _every_ second. My own private star. It was the only tether I had that helped me remember my name."

His thumb grazed her bottom lip, and she breathed. "You're saying-?"

"I've loved you for seventeen years."

His kiss was tender and careful, his desperation withdrawn until she parted her lips to let him express something more needy. She let his hand trail down her collarbone while he let her fingers dig into his thick hair. He murmured into her neck, and the frayed threads that strained to tie her together came undone, making her forget everything that existed outside.

They didn't know how to touch each other, but they learned so much within an hour, foolish to expect sleep to come any sooner.

Shelter wasn't made of bricks or even of this tent, but of his body caged around her: his lidded gaze on her, his nervous chuckles hot on her face, his hands on her waist, his smile into her mouth, his fingers knitted into hers, his weight on her bare thighs, forehead to forehead.

Their bodies pressed tighter, clasping a delicate secret they exchanged in gasps.


End file.
